A Day Unlike Any Other
by NorseGirl23
Summary: There came a day unlike any other when Earth's Mightiest Heroes joined forces against a common enemy. On that day, they became known as the Avengers. . .
1. Chapter 0

My story started long, long before I was born. I could go into a long and drawn out explanation about how mutation could be involved with that explanation, but I was never good with biology. My story began with the marriage of my great-grandparents in the summer of 1939. I heard stories about that day, but that day was a pretty normal day by all accounts. They were crazy for each other, so the few pictures there was of that day showed they were very happy.

The events after that day were incredibly important.

My great-grandma was not allowed to teach at the school in town after she married my great-grandpa. She was expected to the homemaker and very devoted wife. Clarine Thompson Tjaden hated being tied up by expectations. She liked to break them, and it didn't take long for her to be a force to be reckoned with, not just a God-fearing, devoted housewife.

My home town and many others in rural Iowa were a lot different than other communities in the U.S. at that point in time (even now). There was no name for them at that point in time, but the majority of those small communities had people with strange powers. In those small communities, most of the families were all related by that point, and even then, you could tell which families were connected based on the powers used by those children.

It was why the older generation helped the younger generations to control and use their powers. There was no name for them at the time, so there was no explanation for how there were people with strange powers in the population. The God-fearing Germans of my home town and the others in rural Iowa believed it had to do with a part of God's will and divine plan. Someone needed to help protect the people around us. They were even progressive enough to allow women to do those same actions since they also received those powers from God, and that was the period of time where no one questioned the will of God.

My great-grandparents had powers that were both very similar and different. She could manipulate fire, but she always needed a lighter on her person because she could still be burnt by it. He could burst into flame and fly around. That fire came from within for him, and he could stick his hand into the flames and not be affected by it.

It was only natural that they caught the attention of some military group when the U.S. finally entered the Second World War.

* * *

><p>His last name was Phillips, and he was invited into the house with a British woman known as Carter. My great-grandma had made very, strong coffee for them and silently but gently forced them to eat something that she had made that afternoon. Phillips wanted my great-grandpa to be a part of some elite group that he had put together beyond the group that became known as the Howling Commandos.<p>

Family legend had it that Phillips didn't want my great-grandma to come along, even if she had powers.

"There are some things she can do that I can't," my great-grandpa told him. He sounded very easygoing, but he did sound very dangerous. "You might realize that she would be needed. Probably not when we're in Europe."

That was how my great-grandparents became a part of the Invaders. We didn't know what they did as that group, but it was pretty obvious they were dealing with the worst of HYDRA and liberating their own concentration camps. There was not just my great-grandparents in the Invaders. They fought with Captain America, Bucky (before he was KIA), and a strange being known only as Namor the Submariner.

My great-grandpa was a young hothead, and he was the first to admit that he had some kind of rivalry with Namor. Fire and water didn't mix that well together to begin with, but Namor had the sense that he was superior to everyone. In the end, they earned each other's respect.

People who didn't really know any better would've said that Captain America, my great-grandpa, or Namor led the Invaders. Maybe Captain America was in charge for the most part, but the family knew a little better about the rest of that time. My great-grandma took some control of the team. She didn't take outright control, but she did speak in suck a way to convince them that her ideas or plans were theirs.

She ended up being called Spitfire because of her independent and spitfire nature. There was a story within the family when she was piloting a plane that was shot at, and she basically had to stand on one of the wings to fly it into more friendly territory. The plane crashed, and she rolled onto the ground and dusted herself off and fixed her hair when she stood to her feet. When she realized they were looking at her, she quickly broke down and freaked out to the point that my great-grandpa had to comfort her.

He was better known as the Human Torch.

The end of the Invaders happened when Bucky was killed and when Captain America crashed that HYDRA plane. My great-grandparents always told stories about him, being one of the few people in the world who had earned their respect. Over the years, they had told us stories about him in such a way that made it hard not to respect him.

* * *

><p>They had five sons when they came back from being Invaders, and as they became older, they had a mixture of their powers, being able to control fire and to burst into flame and fly around. They wouldn't be burnt by the flames, but dehyration , extremely low blood sugar, and being very overheated were problems. Control helped.<p>

It was the early sixties, and my grandpa was home on break when he became involved with something big, so big that history text books have gotten it so wrong over the years because it needed to be kept secret as if could ruin certain people's reputations (Stryker's father mostly. Too bad).

My granma was involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. for a short period time in the sixties before leaving very suddenly. She joined after college, and she would have been a legend if she had stayed. She was one of the agents who gathered a group of some well known names: Professor Charles Xavier, Eric Lensherr (Magneto), Mystique, Dr. Hank McCoy, and my grandpa. They were some of the heavy hitters of that small group, and that group was the first incarnation of what would be known as the X-Men. It was also the beginnings of Magneto's Mutant Brotherhood.

* * *

><p>My grandparents were married not too long after that, and they had three boys. She became less involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. when my dad was born, but she became more of a counselor to agents. It was her way to keep an eye on things. He didn't fully agree with what Xavier was doing with what would become his school. My grandpa didn't agree with separating mutants from the population.<p>

It was the beginnings of what we were taught in my hometown. You learn how to control your powers, and you would go into the real world to use them to help people and help teach younger mutants how to control their powers. That's what he thought would've been much better.

Me and my brothers and the other kids our age had all of those high expectations for what we whould be able to do. It's kind of hard to live up to those high expectations, but we worked to do that.

People thought that if you were not a part of Magneto's Brotherhood, you were a part of the X-Men. No. We're not a part of that group. They knew each other and were very close, so they could only trust each other, no new people or outsiders.

I'm Rebecca Tjaden, or Becca, but I'm more known as Firebird. I barely left my hometown, and I would not really leave my home state. I let other people take charge, so there was no way I'm Spitfire.

Then, there came a day unlike any other. . .


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Two things. . . .

1: My dad and I have this joke that all roads lead back to our hometown, and I liked to use that

2: We always joked that our math teacher was a CIA agent, and I thought that made sense.

* * *

><p>People always asked me how it all began. It always took me awhile to answer it because it was very hard for me to find that specific beginning. Do I bore them with a long and drawn out biology explanation, so people could understand mutation? Probably not. No one really cares about that. Short attention spans and stuff. In the end, I would talk about my great-grandparents' true adventures as a part of the Invaders with Captain America during World War II.<p>

They made sure we were able to control our fire powers and making sure we would use them to help other people. That was the beginning for me at least. Their teachings stayed with me for all those years, and they were what made me who I would later become.

* * *

><p>So, I was in the front seat of my car that I wasn't driving. My brother was behind the wheel. Long story. I was trying to read something for one of my classes as my brother sped to school. He started to swear.<p>

"What did you do this time?" I asked him when I saw red and blue lights in one of the mirrors.

"Nothing," he grumbled.

"Is that a cop?" His idiot friend, Bret, asked. "Quick, Bobby. . .put my weed -"

"No!" Bobby yelled. "Make her do it!"

"Hit the gas! Hit the gas!" His other friend, A.J., started yelling. "You can lose him."

My brother pulled over to the side of the road, and his grip tightened around the steering wheel. His friends always acted like that on the way to and from school. Everyday.

He turned to look at his idiot friends in the back seat. "Don't do or say anything stupid."

"Just go to sleep," I said. "There's nothing stupid you can do then."

"Hey!" Bret yelled back.

"Your weed. . .?" I asked.

That's pretty much my morning every freaking day. I'm surprised they're still alive. Sometimes I wondered how my brother put up with them, but don't be deceived. He could be just as bad as they were. Sometimes even worse.

A man with dark sunglasses and a dark suit walked to the driver's side of the car. He was just some super secret S.H.I.E.L.D. (Stragery Homelessness Injuries Einstein London Defense. . .I don't know it's weird and long) agent, and his name was probably James Bond or something. He looked a little surprised when he saw my brother, Billy, behind the wheel instead of me, and he tried to act cool as he quickly walked to my side. Fail.

"She sucks at driving," Billy loudly explained. "I don't want to die this morning."

"I'm not that bad," I defended myself.

"You totaled your car a month after you got your license."

"There was ice on the road."

"You were driving too fast."

"Whatever."

The agent made an impatient sound that interrupted our mini argument. I looked up at him.

"I'm Agent Ward," he said. "From -"

"S.H.I.E.L.D.," I interrupted him. Not polite, but I was pretty crabby, so deal with it. "You kinda have that look about you."

"We need your help," he told me.

I have him a look, and I snorted. "Mom told me to stay away from strangers."

"So suck it!" Bret yelled.

"Bret!" Billy yelled back at him before he started driving.

"Still have to go to school," I said, and I rolled the window back up.

We left that agent to pull out a phone from his pocket. I'm pretty sure he wasn't happy about that, but what can you expect? He could've been one of Stryker's guys, and I didn't want to deal with them. Actually. . .I don't want Billy dealing with them.

* * *

><p>I was at my locker, struggling to shove my bag into my small locker and still be able to close the door. There was a gust of icy cold air that announced my best friend's sudden appearance. She was talking about something, but she stopped.<p>

"Isn't Mr. Travis supposed to be at some CIA meeting?" She asked.

"Yeah. . .?" I replied, and I turned my head to see what she might have been looking at.

Our math teacher, Mr. Travis, was walking through the lobby and to the senior lockers in the hallway, making his way towards us. We used to joke that he was a CIA agent because some kid several years ago found a binder on one of his shelves that had that acronym, and that day, he was supposed to be at some CIA meeting-thing.

"Rebecca," he told me, and my so-called best friend, Lauren, quickly walked away.

Apparently I was on my own. Great.

"Yeah?" I tried to keep my voice steady. Me and math have never been on good terms with each other, and I did have a precalc test recently. . .you know the drill.

"We need to talk," he told me, and he started to walk to his classroom. It was empty because no one in the whole high school had math first hour. All eighty of us. . .

That Agent Ward was in the classroom, trying to wait patiently for us. Was that supposed to happen? Probably not, but he might have been a part of a federal government agency, so he could get passed the curious looks that he would get when he walked through the school doors. And then there's the fact that this is a small school. . .nobody cares. He probably just walked through the doors without getting a second glance.

"I can't talk to strangers." I told Mr. Travis.

He did not show how annoyed he may have been, and he gestured to a desk for me to sit in, and he handed me a relatively thick file.

"Something happened late last night," he told me as I opened the file.

I saw a picture of a glowing bright blue cube that was called the Tesseract, and I felt a little sick looking at it. My great-grandparents pretty much cursed that thing whenever they talked about their days with the Invaders. Then there was the picture of the guy who stole it. Loki. He had long, greasy black hair, and very creepy eyes. That was even worse than seeing that cube.

"That's what we need you for," Agent Ward said.

"Okay. . .I'm not qualified for any of that. . .stuff," I told them. "Why are you asking me?"

"Nick Fury requested you," Mr. Travis answered.

"Wait. . .wait. . .why are you on his side?" I asked. "That's just weird. You're like. . .I thought you were a CIA agent?" Still that ongoing joke.

The agent gave me some weird look. I get that from people a lot, especially when I talk like that. Which is all of the time.

"That was what you all thought," Mr. Travis said.

I nodded. "I guess. . .when do we leave?"

* * *

><p>I was in the girls' locker room, looking for my special bag. It held a simple black suit thing Lauren somehow managed to find for me. I had a feeling that I might need it. Lauren found me, and she crossed her arms. "Whatcha doing?"<p>

"I'm a'goin' to play with fire."

"You mean save the world?"

"That too."


	3. Chapter 2

I'll be the first to admit it, okay. I was pretty annoying to that poor Agent Ward as I was taken to some government building that had no reason being in the middle of nowhere. There was some special jet thing that was waiting for us. There was a woman with short red hair and a nervous looking older man waiting for us. More people for me to annoy. Really?

"She's your problem, now," Ward said.

"What?" I demanded, but he practically disappeared into thin air.

I walked onto the jet and threw my stuff on the ground, and I sat back and closed my eyes. Mornings and me never really got along too well. I was out, and I was probably snoring. There are two times in the year where my seasonal allergies get pretty bad, planting and harvesting times. Also, I was subconsciously being as annoying as possible. That would teach people to get me out of school on a day when I would've done nothing.

Totally worked. . .I think. . .

The jet landed, and we were on this military aircraft floating ship thing. I thought I saw my dad's pilot cousin getting out of another jet, and I quickly walked over to him. His name was Wade, and he was a couple years older than my dad, and he had the same powers that made him a Tjaden. He barely reacted when he saw me.

"Don't get angry," he told me.

"What?" I asked, and I was pretty confused. No idea what he could have meant with that.

"You'll meet someone who'll make you mad," he said again. "Listen before you act."

That was when we watched Him walk out of the jet. Tall and big and muscular. I wished I remembered to bring my phone because I needed a picture to show Lauren. She wouldn't have believed me if I told her.

"Who does he remind you of?" Wade asked me.

I narrowed my eyes, and I realized I probably needed new glasses because I thought I was seeing things or guessing about what I couldn't see. That wasn't really possible. . .right? He looked like Captain America. . .the guy who sacrificed his life to save the country during World War II. I had to breathe fast and quickly to keep myself from clawing at his eyes or setting him on fire.

"They found him," Wade told me. "He's the real guy. They found him."

That was enough to keep me from setting him on fire. I relaxed a lot, and I walked over to the three as they were talking quietly to each other.

"Dr. Banner," He, Steve Rogers, said to the nervous looking man. "Word is you can find the cube."

"Is that the only word on me?" Bruce Banner, the Hulk, asked, reluctantly shaking his hand.

"The only word I care about," Steve said.

I looked at Him with some surprise and some appreciation. No one would ever look past that. No one. I have to admit that it was the beginning of some kind of respect for him. It was the way he said it. Genuine and kind of a little forceful to get that to the point of what he was saying. It wasn't just the looks.

He gave me a weird look like I reminded him of someone, and he shook his head. He should've just said something, but I didn't really care. I really wanted to know what the hell was happening. Nick Fury requested me, but he got the Hulk and Captain America, too. What was going on?

To avoid awkwardly staring at him, I pulled out my lighter and started to play with it. That was sort of my nervous habit. It gave me something to do with my hands, and the fire gave me something to concentrate on. Getting a lighter like that was kind of a family tradition when someone got their powers.

Even the small flame kept me calm. I like fire.

He still had that same expression on his face like he was really working to remember something pretty important. I looked back at him like I was trying to get him to tell me what he was thinking about. Natasha gently elbowed me in the side, and I looked back her like "what?" She raised one of her eyebrows, and quickly pocketed tha told lighter and held out my right hand.

"Rebecca Tjaden," I said. "Thas my name, or Firebird. I'll answer to both."

His eyes flashed with recognition when he heard my name. It made sense. He knew my great-grandparents. It probably really bothered him meeting me or something. He did shake my hand, though.

"You might want to step inside," Natasha told us. "It's going to get a little difficult to breathe."

"Is this a submarine?" Steve asked when he let go of my hand. He was looking around us.

"Really?" Bruce was saying in joking disbelief. "They want me in a submerged, pressurized metal container?"

You know what? He's one of the few people who would joke about the horrible life that fate dealt him.

I walked over to the edge, and I saw the wind turbine churning the water. Slowly, the ship started to raise up into the sky. It was pretty cool.

Bruce was looking at them, and he had that half-bitter smile. "Oh. No. This is much worse."

We followed Natasha into the ship, and He looked like He wanted to ask me something.

"Tjaden," He finally said, and it was like it really bothered Him or something. "Are you related to Ed Tjaden. . .?" It was clear He was trying to keep Himself from saying Human Torch.

"My great-grandpa," I told Him, and I realized too late what my answer could've been to Him.

He did look a little hurt before he quickly shook his head. I wanted to tell Him that my parents had me when they were pretty young, but really. . .how would that have even helped?

"He's a good man," He told me, and it was like He was really choosing his words very carefully. For all He knew, my great-grandpa had passed away at some point during the past seventy years. My great-grandpa was still alive at that time.

"Yeah," I said. "He is." I stressed that last word a lot. It was more for His benefit.

That had an almost profound effect on Him. He really wanted to hear something like that.

We walked into the bridge of the now-floating ship. Steve looked around Him like He was having troubles even believing what He was seeing. Okay. . .He wasn't the only one. He walked over to Nick Fury and handed him a ten dollar bill.

That was when Bruce started to explain how he was going to look for the cube. I understood nothing. Everything he said was basically a foreign language to me, and my eyes were actually glazing over. He left with Natasha Romanoff to be in the lab, and I was left with Him. He snapped out of his little daze and walked over to me.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm Steve Rogers."

"I know," I said without even thinking. Good thing it wasn't my breathy "I'm totally crushing on you" voice.


	4. Chapter 3

My eyes scanned around me, and I tried to look like I wasn't bored or being too curious about what people were working on. The cube, the agent, and the crazy missing thief were nowhere to be found. I'm not a patient person, and that wait was very painful for me.

Steve was politely listening to Agent Coulson talk. Actually, based on his expression, the agent might have been gushing about something. I shook my head, and I was trying not to laugh, because I cackle loudly when I do laugh. Phil Coulson loved anything to do with Captain America, and I'm pretty sure that when he was a little kid, he only talked about Captain America being his hero.

Steve looked like he was more concerned with dealing with the cube situation, so he was probably only kind of listening to whatever Coulson was telling him. He was barely even responding to what he was being told. To his credit, Coulson wasn't even fazed about that, and he just kept talking.

Then:

"We got a hit," some agent said. "Stuttgart, Germany. He isn't exactly hiding."

"Cap, Firebird," Fury said, not even looking up from what he was working on. "You're up."

Okay. . .I can control fire and kinda fight. What good would I be in a fight against a god? No seriously think about it. . .what good would I be? Am I the distraction or something?

I was thinking all of that, but of course, being from Iowa, I wasn't going to say it all out loud. That was when Steve and I made eye contact, and it was this silent exchange between the two of us. He was telling me that I could do it, that I would be fine with him around me.

I believed him.

* * *

><p>My longish, bleached blonde hair was pulled back, and I had to squint because I ditched my only pair of glasses. Hated wearing contacts because they would be up against my corneas (shudder). I was on another super special and secret jet with Steve, and at that point, I could not really look at him. I don't know. . .that always happened when I was around people I did not really know real well. That always just happens to me.<p>

That was fine, though, because Steve was busy planning how we were going to deal with Loki, and I wouldn't have been much help to him with any of that planning. Steve knew what he was doing, so I trusted him to come up with something good or pretty smart.

"What can you do?" Steve asked me, and I literally startled back to reality, making him quietly apologize, but I shook that one off.

"A mixture of what my great-grandparents could do," I told him, and his eyes quickly looked at the the agents in the cockpit before he nodded in understanding.

He didn't ask the next question that expected from most people when they find out I'm a mutant. What were my limits? If my powers were the mixture of my great-grandparents' very similar powers then he already knew the answer.

Loki was terrorizing people in a square, getting them to kneel before him like he was their great king god. He was basically gloating at them and telling them that freedom was useless, and that they should basically give it all up.

This is Germany, people. Germany. They heard it all before.

There was one German who was probably old enough to have heard it all before. He was the one who bravely stood to his feet and face Loki with no fear whatsoever. That shook Loki a little, even though he tried to hide it. He proved that he was powerful and strong with that stupid display of shooting blue energy around with the spear, so he thought no one would stand up to him.

"Look to your elder people," Loki told them all, getting ready to smite the brave soul who had the guts to stare him down. "Let him be your example."

I could actually see the people closest to the old man tense up with the anticipation of what could happen next. Steve was long gone until the blue light dimmed away around them. The blast reflected off of Steve's shield and knocked Loki to the ground.

As Steve stood to his feet, the old man actually looked up at him with wonder and shock. If he was old enough to have heard Loki's speech before, then he was old enough to be surprised that Captain America would save his skin.

"You know," Steve said in his Captain America voice. It was louder, and it could make the Queen of England follow orders. "The last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everyone else, we ended up disagreeing." Understatement of the year.

As he walked, people started to get to their feet. Their fear was long gone, and it was pretty clear that Loki wasn't bothering them anymore.

I was out of the jet, and I watched Loki get to his feet. He was not happy, but I was more into the whole "get rid of the potential casualties" thing. People were actually starting to leave once I made one of the Fake Lokis disappear into thin air. I kinda just punched "him," so I could tell Billy that I punched a god. That freed their escape route.

Steve and Loki were fighting, and I thought that Loki was not as imposing as Steve, but he was a god, so he had to have been a force to be reckoned with.

AC/DC's "Shoot to Thrill" filled the night air, and Iron Man landed after he shot Loki to the ground, and the god actually surrendered with no other threats or anything.

I walked over to them and crossed my arms when I saw their icy greetings. This could get interesting. They were going to be fighting before we even get Loki back to Fury.

If Tony Stark was involved, why was I even there?


	5. Chapter 4

We were on that speedy jet as we took Loki back to that floating ship base. Loki was just smirking as he was strapped into where he was sitting. He looked meek and mild, but my brothers would wear that same look when they messed with my stuff and try to pretend that they hadn't.

"It's not right," Steve was saying to Tony. He also didn't like Loki's apparent meekness.

"What?" Tony said, totally and seemingly unconvinced about it all. "Rock of Ages giving up so easily?"

"I don't remember it being that easy. He packs a wallop."

Tony made an amused face. "Still. . .you're pretty spry for an older fellow. What's your secret? Pilates?"

"What?" Steve asked.

"It's like calisthenics," Tony quickly explained. "You might have missed a few things while doing time as a. . .Capsicle."

I grimaced. Poor taste. "Too soon."

My lighter was in my hands, and the temptation to play with it was too high for me to get rid of. Steve quickly grabbed my wrist, and he shook his head. I snorted, but I did put my lighter in my pocket. Too bored, and I didn't want to deal with looking at the crazy god. His eyes creeped me out.

There was the distant rumble of thunder that became louder the longer it rolled, and there was some flashes of lightning. Loki actually folded into himself when that happened, and he quickly looked around him. I could've sworn he looked pretty nervous.

"What's the matter?" Steve asked him. "Not scared of a little lightning are you?"

Loki's eyes were still darting around him. "I'm not overly fond of what follows."

The jet shook as something pretty large landed on it, and we shook around. I hung onto something to keep from face planting on the wall. My balance sucks, and that did not really help it like at all.

"I'm guessing it's that," I said to no one really in particular.

Tony quickly put on his helmet, and he actually opened the jet. Some crazy powerful thing that scared Loki was trying to attack us, and the first thing he did was try to invite it onto the jet. . .okay, I was starting to see why Fury had more of us looking for that cube. A tall, muscular blonde man in chain mail and a long red cape swept into the jet. He was holding a large hammer which was enough for me to know who he was. Thor. My dad's middle name was for that guy. Of course I knew who he was.

He managed to knock us to the ground, but Steve made sure I didn't get the full force of that blow. Good guy. Thor grabbed Loki, basically taking a fistful of of his shirt and dragging him out of the jet as he swung his hammer to fly away.

"Stark," Steve said as he helped me to my feet. "We need a plan of attack."

"I have a plan," Tony said, walking to the open door to the jet. "Attack."

He flew out of the jet, and man. . .Steve didn't look too happy. I think he actually let out a long-suffering sigh as he grabbed his shield and a parachute.

"I think I'd sit this one out, Cap," Natasha called over her shoulder.

"I don't see how I can," Steve said, barely even fazed.

"These guys come from legend," she said, trying to get him to understand. "They're basically gods."

"There's only one God, ma'am," Steve said right before he jumped out of the jet. "And, I'm sure He doesn't dress like that."

I watched him fall through the sky, and there was my little smile as I closed that door to the jet.

"Yeah. . ." I said quickly and fastly. Maybe she understood me, maybe not. "I'm staying. I think he's got that covered."

* * *

><p>After a strong bright light lit up the sky, leaving a lot of the trees knocked to the ground. Their fight had to have been pretty big and devastating. Or something. That was really ridiculous. The boys, after they were done playing, were back on the jet, and Loki was pretty smug about everything. I kinda wanted to set his greasy hair on fire and see what happened, but my momma taught me to be better than that.<p>

I made eye contact with Steve, and I could tell he was not too happy about everything that was happening. Loki apparently had enough opportunity to run, but he stayed. Suspicious. . .

Loki was escorted away by heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and he was still acting innocent and meek. Acting. Seemed. Something was brewing, and he was waiting. Whatever.

You had to be crazy to purposefully get captured by a group of people who wanted answers. Yeah. . .

Thor was given strange looks by many of the agents. They were a little afraid and many of them were giving that hammer uneasy looks. They were probably in New Mexico the same time as Thor. That was just a guess, though.

I stuck close to Steve, and I was watching a lot of things, trying to see what was happening. I really didn't see why I should have been there. I wasn't useful for anything that they were planning to do. Steve looked down at me, and he was thinking pretty hard about something.

"Why do you think like that?" He asked me.

I gave him a confused look. "Like. . .what?"

"You stayed in the sidelines," he told me.

"Yeah. . ." I said in a way to get him to really tell me what he was thinking about.

"Why?"

"I'd be in the way," I told him. "I can barely fight. Think about it."

"You'd think you would learn how to fight," he commented, and he was right. My family was too well known for what they were, so my parents would have wanted me to learn how to protect myself.

"I don't like fighting," I admitted. That was pretty true, and it was one of those values of mine that would always carry through for years after. "Sometimes. . .I don't think it's the answer."

Steve gave me this look like he understood and respected that. I don't know. . .that's what it seemed like at the time. He nodded.

"I could help you with that," he told me, and I almost really smiled at him. He didn't have to do that, but he did.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Loki mocked Nick Fury, mocked all of us. I wanted to punch his annoying face, though that might have broken my hand. The video feed turned off when it was pretty clear that loki was not going to say anything to Old One Eye.<p>

"He really grows on you, doesn't he?" Bruce joked.

That impressed me. Most people would act out when they were dealt his hand. Bruce Banner joked about it.

"Loki's going to drag this out," Steve said. He looked up at the Asgardian. "Thor, what's his plan?"

"He has an army called the Chitauri," Thor explained. "And he plans to use them against your people in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract."

"I don't think we need to worry about Loki," Bruce said. "You can smell the crazy from him."

"Have care how you speak," Thor responded dangerously. "Loki is of Asgard, and he is my brother."

"He killed eighty people in two days," Natasha said.

"He's adopted."

I'll admit it. I snorted when he said that. I can't help it. That's exactly what I would say when Billy or Bobby would do something stupid. Everyone else stared at me, so I tried to look innocent.

"I. . .say that. . .sometimes," I said quickly and very quietly. It's that default way I talk I use when I'm pretty sure I'll say something stupid. "Yeah. . ."

Bruce was pacing around them as he started to think. "It's all about the mechanics. What could he use the iridium for."

"It's a stabilizing agent," the voice of Tony Stark met us as he sauntered into the bridge. He was actually making as dramatic an entrance as he could. He was Tony Stark, so I guess that makes sense, I guess. "Take a week. I'll fly you over to Portland. Keep love alive." That was told to an amused Phil Coulson before he began wander around the bridge. "It's so the portal won't close in on itself like it did at S.H.I.E.L.D." He passed Thor. "No hard feelings, Point Break. You have a mean swing."

Thor just looked at him. It was actually kind of funny because I used to wear that same look whenever some freshman would try to piss me off. You know that look. . .annoyance and irritation.

Bruce and Tony tried to out science each, and it ended with Tony being impressed with the scientist.

"Finally," he said. "Someone who speaks English."

"Is that what just happened?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," I quietly said, drawing the word out, like I had recently seen _Office Space_. "Me and science don't get along too well."

It became quiet as Tony and Bruce went to the labs to find a way to look for the cube.

"Maybe someone should go babysit them," I mumbled.

"He won't try to do anything stupid," Steve told me.

I gave him a look, trying not to sound or look too amused. "I've been told he's a lot like his father."

"Fury wouldn't allow that to happen. . ." But, it was pretty clear that he didn't sound too convinced by that.

I looked back at him and cracked up a little, almost snorting a little. "You have more faith in his restraint than I do."

Then there came that awkward silence. I hated those, so I started to play with my lighter. It was given to me by my great-grandparents when I got my powers, and on the gold there was a fiery red bird. . .for Firebird. Playing with it became a very nervous habit for me. If I couldn't handle a situation, the clicking sound of it became a comfort for me, and I liked the tongue of flame.

I could tell that Steve was watching me play with that lighter, and I looked up at him, giving him a questioning look.

"Yeah?" I asked him.

"Why weren't you involved with the planning?" He asked me. He looked at me very closely, actually noticing some details that many people would overlook.

I shrugged. "Got nothing."

He shook his head. "You wanted to say something several times."

I looked at him, surprised at what he had told me. No one really noticed that sort of thing. Few people even bothered to look. I looked away from him, preferring to focus on anything. If I wanted to get over that little school-girl crush on him, if he kept doing that, it would never go away.

"No one would ever listen to me," I actually said out loud, and I had to quickly recover. I shook my head. "There are people far more qualified than me doing the planning."

He was giving me a strange look when I said that. There was that faraway look to his eyes like he was remembering something that seemed to be half-forgotten.

"What?" I asked him, feeling a little bad making him remember something that was probably very painful for him.

"Someone. . .I knew used to say that," Steve finally admitted.

"Spitfire? Or Human Torch?" I asked, though I started to call them my great-grandparents. I was so used to talking to people who knew me well enough to know who I'm talking about. Basically, everyone from my hometown.

He nodded to my questions, but we knew who we were really talking about. Spitfire. He was really thinking and probably doing the math.

"Did you almost call them your grandparents?" He asked me, sounding almost surprised.

"No."

"But, you. . ." He paused. "The pilot warned me about you being your father's daughter."

"Yeah," I said, almost smirking. "Cousin Wade would know." I let that one sink in for him. "I called them my great-grandparents."

"Oh," he said, and it was pretty clear he wasn't too happy about that. It was pretty much reinforcing the nasty reality on him. "They're good people." That faint, faraway look to his eyes became stronger.

"Yeah," I said to him, without even realizing it. "They pretty much said the same thing about you."

I couldn't believe I actually said that out loud, so I acted all nonchalant about it. Me and talking to people I didn't know never really got along. At least he was cool about it.

Trust me on this. . .it was weird to talk to him. My great-grandparents always had these stories that history would forget to mention about him. You know. . .the man behind the shield. Holy crap. . .even their stories didn't come close to the real thing.

It's hard to describe. Any nice guy thing that he said or did was not fake. It all worked with him.

"Were you the only one with their powers?" Steve asked me very carefully.

Everyone who didn't really know the family always did that, acting like asking that question was pretty risky.

"No," I told him. "Anyone born a Tjaden can control fire."

He looked rather pointedly at my lighter, but he wasn't going to say anything. Good.

"How did you get involved with S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Steve asked me. "Well. . .besides. . ."

"Yeah," I said. "That might be a big reason, but I made my own way. I earned a part to be a part of this. . ." I reached to find what to describe this, so I chose to not swear at that moment. There are such things as miracles. "This craziness."

You know it was a success (whatever it was) when you made the man who created the legend of Captain America laugh. Success. I had that gloating feeling when he snorted. Don't ask me what it was, 'cause I can't really describe it. It was that feeling mixed with butterflies. . .or something like that.

My best friend would have a field day with that knowledge, proving that I still had that childhood crush on him.


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>So, we walked into the lab right when Tony shocked Bruce. You know. . .Bruce Banner. . .the guy who had epic anger management problems.<p>

"Ow!" Bruce yelled, but he didn't really seem to react to that. Nothing could faze him. He's almost calmer than Fred Hoiberg (Iowa State Men's Basketball coach. No matter what could happen, he could be very calm).

"Nothing?" Tony asked, and he was intently looking into his eyes to see if they were bright green or not. He sounded surprised at that. "You really have a lid on it, don't you?"

"Are you crazy?" Steve demanded.

"Jury's out," Tony said, before turning back to Bruce. "What's your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? A huge bag of weed?"

"Is everything a joke to you?" Steve demanded again.

"Funny things are."

"Dude," I said. "Why would the guy be here if ti was super hair trigger and stuff?"

Bruce agreed with me in his half-hearted way. The guy was studying the science-y stuff like the world had depended on it. He wanted to stay away from the argument for obvious reasons.

"I wouldn't be here if I couldn't handle. . .pointy things."

"You're tiptoeing, Big Guy," Tony said, eating some blueberries. "You need to strut."

"And, you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark," Steve snapped, narrowing his eyes.

"You think I'm not?" Tony replied, eating some more blueberries. "Why did Fury call us in? Why now? Why not before?"

"You think Fury's hiding something?" Steve asked. He sounded a little shocked at that, but I guess that comes from being in a completely different time and realizing there were some things that weren't exactly black and white.

"Cap, he's a spy," Tony explained. "He's The Spy. Even his secrets have secrets. It's bothering him too, isn't it?" He gestured to Bruce.

Steve looked at Bruce, trying to see if that was the full truth, but the scientist wouldn't meet his eyes, not wanting to say anything if that was at all possible. The soldier looked at me, then, and he was able to read what I really was thinking at that moment. He gave me a questioning look.

"Gramma left S.H.I.E.L.D. after actively working for them for a little over ten years," I told him, for once sounding very serious. "She always said one thing about them: they may help in a pinch, but you have to keep both eyes open when you're dealing with them." Tony seemed to understand that, but Steve was still giving me a strange look. "She's been burned before. . ."

Steve shook his head, but he thought about what I had told him. It's clear I could trust certain agents, but the whole agency? Not a good idea. He looked at the doctor who struggled to hide his opinions.

"Doc?" Steve asked him even after he was obviously trying to avoid direct conversation.

Bruce sighed when he looked up from his work, and he took off his glasses. "Loki's jab at Fury about the cube. A warm light for all mankind. I think it was meant for you." That was directed to Tony. "Even if Barton hadn't told him about the Tower, it would have been all over the news.

"Stark Tower?" Steve asked, sounding very familiar with that building in New York City. "That big, ugly build -" Steve stopped himself when Tony gave him a mock offended expression. "Building in New York?"

That was when Bruce went back to his work, not even looking up at us.

"It's powered by the Arc Reaktor, a self-sustaining power source. The building will run itself for what. . .a year?"

Tony nodded. "It's only a prototype." He looked to me and Steve. "I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now."

"Yeah," I remarked, thinking back to one of my classes. "My government teacher wouldn't stop talking about that." That was said very quietly, and I was going to roll my eyes at that.

"Then why weren't you called in on the Tesseract project in the first place," Bruce was saying. "Why are they even in the energy business in the first place?"

"I should probably look into that once my decryption program is done," Tony said, looking at his small, computer device.

"I'm sorry," Steve said. "Did you just say. . ."

"Oh," I said, not made about that. "I wish I thought about that."

Steve gave me a look, but I only shrugged. I did wish I thought of hacking S.H.I.E.L.D., and I had every right to do that.

"I have my reasons," I told him, a little more forcefully than ever before. "Watch the news sometime. Then, you'll see."

"And, you're confused on why they didn't want you around," Steve said.

"An intelligence organization that fears intelligence?" Tony asked. "Historically not cool."

"Steve," I said, actually sounding serious again. I wanted him to understand. "They had that cube, okay? Even after they knew what it could do. . .or because of it. . .you know why."

Steve looked at the two of us, but really mostly at me. He looked like he was thinking pretty hard about something. Steve shook his head and left the lab, muttering about needing to find the cube.

"That the guy my dad never shut up about?" Tony asked out loud. "I'm wondering if they should have kept him on ice."

I almost glared at him, narrowing my eyes at him and looking over the rim of my glasses. I could never really glare at people that well, and I would end up smiling or laughing at how ridiculous that was. Not that time, though.

I quickly ran out of the lab to catch up with Steve. He kind of acknowledged me before he broke open a locked door to a restricted area. I didn't say anything about that, so I think it's pretty obvious what he was doing.

We quietly looked at each crate, checking the dates and places of origin, and I almost walked into Steve when he suddenly stopped in front of one particularly old crate.

Inside there were old weapons that probably hadn't really seen the light of day in seventy years. There was the dreaded symbol that anyone would've recognized on sight. The skeletal head and many serpent heads of HYDRA. These were HYDRA weapons, the ones powered by the cube. I wanted to fire bomb it, but that was nothing compared to what Steve looked like. That guy looked downright dangerous, and I almost backed away from him.

"Yeah," I said, trying not to swear. A girl's got to keep her class. "That's totally clean energy. Totally."


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>"So," I heard Tony draw the word out at Nick Fury. "What is Phase Two?"<p>

Fury was really working to backpedal and deny everything. The standard S.H.I.E.L.D. response. Guess the look was wearing when he saw Steve come into the lab with the HYDRA gun.

"Phase Two is S.H.I.E.L.D. uses the cube to make weapons," Steve said as he unceremoniously tossed it on the lab table.

Everyone looked at the gun and back at Fury. It's one thing to have suspicions. It's another to actually see the proof.

"Just because we confiscated everything to do with the cube, Rogers," Fury was quickly saying. "Doesn't mean -"

"I'm sorry, Nick," Tony interrupted him, showing all of designs for a weapon powered by the cube. "What? Were you lying?"

Natasha and Thor were in the lab, and they were nervously watching Bruce. There might have been a good reason for that.

"I was wrong," Steve said, and he could make those few words sound very dangerous. "The world hasn't changed a bit."

He really did look dangerous. There was a moment where I was afraid for Fury, but he had that coming.

"Did you know about this thing?" Bruce asked Natasha.

So, she did try to hide that. . .you know being a bad ass secret agent and all, but she did look surprised. She worked to keep her composure.

"You want to think about removing yourself from the situation, Doctor?" She strongly suggested.

"I was in Calcutta," Bruce replied. "I was pretty well removed."

"Loki's manipulating you."

"And, you're doing what exactly?" Bruce demanded.

"You didn't come here because I batted my eyelashes at you," Natasha replied.

"Yes, and I'm not leaving because you're suddenly getting a little twitchy." Bruce looked at the weapon plans. "I want to know why S.H.I.E.L.D. is making weapons of mass destruction."

Fury was really working to keep his anger under control. It looked like he was trying to decide what he could say to us and not make the situation even worse.

"It's because of him," Fury finally said, pointing at Thor.

"Me?" Thor said, both hurt and offended. He was shocked enough not to sound angry. That was something he didn't expect.

"Last year, Earth had a visitor from another planet with a grudge match that nearly leveled an entire town," Fury explained. "Not only did we learn that we are not alone, we're hopelessly. . .hilariously. . .outgunned."

We were all kinda shocked about hearing that. Thor, bless his heart, looked pretty guilty about what had happened in New Mexico.

"The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, can't be controlled," Fury said.

I was pissed. Oh man, did I start seeing red. My hand started to twitch as I really needed to pull out my lighter and firebomb his face. He did NOT just say that. Steve prudently grabbed my lighter out of my hand. That's probably for the best.

"Wow," I finally said, actually finding the words. "I thought S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't get involved with politics."

He should know what I meant.

"I don't," he replied.

"I didn't say you. I said S.H.I.E.L.D.," I snapped back at him. My voice sounded acidic. "You were clearly talking about mutants."

"You should know there are mutants out there who would kill any human."

"Too bad no one's willing to look for the difference," I said. "So, I can't really blame them."

"Your work with the Tesseract was what brought Loki to it," Thor said. "And, his allies."

I was too busy glaring at the director. Too mad to really focus on anything else. I wanted to yell at someone, but Steve held me back. He rested a hand on my shoulder and shook his head. That actually worked. My dangerous anger dissipated, and I started to breathe heavily as my breathing began to relax and become a normal rhythm.

"It's a signal to the other realms that Earth is ready for a higher form of war," Thor was saying.

"A higher form?" Steve asked, still making sure I wasn't going to freak out at anyone.

"You forced our hand," Fury snapped back at Thor. He was still making excuses, and my calmness was going away. "We had to come up with something. . ."

"A nuclear deterrent?" Tony mocked. "Because, that calms everything right down."

"Remind me again how you made your fortune, Mr. Stark," Fury replied.

"I'm sure if he still made weapons, he'd be neck deep -" Steve was saying, and I gave him a look like he shouldn't have said that.

"Wait. . .how is this about me?"

"I'm sorry. Isn't everything?"

That was where everything became worse than high school. Petty insults were shot around, and we were arguing with each other about one small thing or another.

"Why's Captain America on threat watch?" I asked once I heard what Natasha told Bruce.

"Wait. . .they're watching you?" Tony asked Steve. "Are you above or below big angry beast?"

"Stark, it you don't be quiet, so help me god. . ." Steve said.

"Is that a threat?" Tony asked. "I feel threatened."

Actually. . .this was starting to sound like my government class. There was always two people who hate each other, and of course, the teacher had to sit them next to each other. They sounded like Tony and Steve at that moment. Those two were close to blows, or would have if Tony had the chance to get his suit.

Bruce was really looking pretty agitated and nervous, and he was starting to sweat. He kept getting closer and closer to the spear.

"Yeah, this is a team," he said very quickly. "This is a chemical reaction waiting to happen." His voice was dangerous sounding, parts of it were much stronger and fiercer than it should have been. "You want to know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You want to know how I stay calm?"

We were all ready to fight him, but we were not going to make any sudden movements. He was holding that spear, probably without even realizing it.

"Dr. Banner," Steve said. "Please put down the scepter."

Bruce looked at it like it bit him, and he tossed it back on the table. "Sorry, guys. Guess you don't get to see my party trick after all."

There was this alert-thing, and that meant that the cube had been found or something like that. That create even more chaos. Everyone wanted their hands on the cube, or they wanted to be the one to get it. Wow.

"How 'bout we just destroy?" I suggested, trying to raise my voice over theirs. No one could even hear me.

Bruce ignored it all, though. He was wearing a confused and worried look on his face. "Oh my god."

That had to be the exact moment when our world blew up.


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>My ears were ringing after that explosion, and when I tried to stand, the world around me began to spin. I could barely keep my balance, so I almost faceplanted into the lab table. Steve caught me and steadied me long enough for the dizziness to go away. I blinked several times, trying to reorient myself to the world around me.<p>

"You okay?" He asked me.

"Yeah." I numbly nodded, and I could smell some smoke from wherever the explosion had happened.

I pulled away from him and started to run towards the area of the explosion. The smoke led me towards it. He actually let me go, so he knew what I was capable of. There was not too much worry for my safety. I held out one of my hands in front of me, and I could feel the heat concentrate in the palm of my hand as the smoke started to attract itself to my hand. The area around me started to clear and become more breathable.

Then I could see the flames, and I held out both of my hands to hold the flames back and to start to use the fire for myself. Loki's goons tried to shoot at me, so I started to throw fireballs at their guns, making them very useless. They tossed them to the ground, and they were about to fight me. Too bad they became scared and ran off.

I could hear the Hulk bellowing off into the distance, and I actually started to shudder. There was something about the primal and guttural sound that could make anyone fearful. That fear was almost instinctual.

Things after that were a blur to me. I could only remember fragments. Like making the fire go away and leading the medics to the poor souls who were caught in the explosion. Something took me to the where Loki's cell was being kept. I was there to see the horrible sight.

Loki duplicated himself and stabbed Coulson through the back with his spear. Me and thor yelled out in outrage, and as Loki dealt with Thor, I was at Coulson's side, trying to keep him from bleeding to death. He was struggling to breathe, and my hands were covered with his blood. I was muttering a prayer for him. Loki glared at me when he was done with Thor. He could hear what I was saying which angered him tremendously.

"Your weak prayers will do nothing for him," he said, and his grip tightened around the spear.

"Shut up," I said, not even looking at him, and that angered him even more.

He struck me with the spear, hitting the side of my face, and everything became black. The next thing I could remember was two medics checking me out and making sure I was alright. They were cleaning some nasty gash down the side of my face or shining a light in my eyes to check for a concussion. I had a headache.

When I was sitting up, I could see Fury talking with the barely conscious Coulson. Fury took a step back from the fallen agent, wearing an expression of loss.

"Agent Coulson is down," he said to all of us.

I couldn't really say anything. I didn't know him personally, but my grandma thought highly of him. She believed that if every agent in S.H.I.E.L.D. had his spirit, then maybe the world would be a better place. I still had his blood on my hands.

"We're sending a medical team to your location," a woman's voice replied.

"They're already here," Fury said, motioning to one man with the T.A.H.I.T.I. symbol on one shoulder for him to look at Coulson. "They called it."

I slowly walked into a somber bridge. Tony and Steve were sitting at the table, being very quiet and thinking about what had happened during the attack. Steve looked at me when I walked into the bridge, and he saw the patched up gash and nasty bruise along the side of my face from Loki's spear. He seemed to be pretty furious when his eyes ran over those injuries.

I shrugged when I sat next to him. He didn't need to be mad for me. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

His eyes looked at my bloody hands, and I had them in my lap under the table, not wanting to talk about it. I still had Coulson's blood on my hands. Steve went to say something, but he stopped himself and shook his head.

His death affected all of us.

Fury had his back to us, and he was playing with the bloodied, priceless Captain America trading cards that Coulson so treasured.

"These were in Phil Coulson's jacket when he died," Fury said, tossing them to Steve. "Guess he never did get you to sign them."

Steve picked one up to only stare at it. He didn't really say anything. No one really mentioned how weird it was that Coulson kept his most priceless treasures with him on a potentially fatal mission, but we were all blinded by grief at the time. None of us asked too many questions.

"Yes," Fury was saying. "We were planning to build an arsenal with the cube, but I never put all my chips in that basket, though. I was playing something riskier."

"Playing with fire," I muttered very quietly, immediately understanding what was happening and his potential plans.

"There was an idea," Fury said. "Stark knows this. . .there was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people to fight the battles that we couldn't." He allowed those words to sink into us and make us process them. It was a great idea if it was done right. "Coulson died still believing in that idea. . .in heroes."

Tony quickly stood to his feet, not taking any more of that and quickly left. Whatever Fury told him really bothered him, and he could not really talk about it or deal with it. The agent's death affected him much more than he was willing to admit out loud.

"Well. . .it's an old fashioned notion."


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: Please read and reivew!

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><p>Tony was staring at where Loki's cell once was, and he barely even acknowledged us standing there. It was a quiet moment. Each of us was mourning the fallen agent in our own way.<p>

"Was he married?" Steve asked the man who knew the agent the best. Or maybe not. You never know with Tony Stark. All of that information about Coulson could have been told to him when he was very busy or thinking about his work and inventions.

"There was a cellist," Tony said, not even looking at us. He did know the agent better than any of us, and his grief did sound to be pretty genuine. "I think."

I closed my eyes, remembering the blood pooling around my hands when I tried to stop the bleeding. It was the memory of feeling someone else's life pass away through my fingers. When I opened my eyes, I noticed that steve was giving me a look of concern, and I only shrugged like I wasn't going to talk about anything to him like that.

"I'm sorry," Steve ended up saying to Tony. "He seemed like a good man."

Tony quickly turned around to look at us. "He was an idiot."

"Why? For believing?" I asked.

He grimaced at what I had said. "He could have waited. . ."

"He was just doing his job," Steve remarked, but when tony never really responded to him, he wore a thoughtful and serious expression. "Is this the first time you lost a soldier?"

"We are not soldiers!" Tony snapped, but he realized he showed too much emotion to complete strangers. "I'm not marching to Fury's fife."

"I'm not," I snorted. "None of us are."

"He's got the same blood on his hands as Loki does," Steve said.

Tony was thinking really hard as he looked at the spot on the wall that still had Coulson's blood on it.

"He made it personal," he quickly said.

"That's not the point," Steve said.

"It is the point," Tony replied. "He hit us all right where we live. Why?"

"To tear us apart," I said, slowly and not too sure about it. If that was the case, he probably didn't think that one through all the way.

"Divide and conquer is great, but he knows he has to beat us to win right?" He started to pace around and really think. It was pretty clear that he was one of the world's greatest minds just by watching him in action. He was basically a true genius at work. "Loki's a full tilt diva. He wants parades, flowers, and a monument built to the sky with his name. . ." He stopped short, and it was pretty clear he realized something pretty important. " Sonofabitch."

Tony walked quickly out of the room. He was on a mission, in his own world completely, needing to find a way and a reason beyond all of that.

"I don't get it," I said, and I pointedly looked away from the stain on the wall. "I mean. . ." I had issues telling my real opinions, especially to strangers.

"He figured it out," he told me, and when I looked up at him, I nodded to tell him I understood that.

"Yeah," I told him. "But, he's only drawing us all together and making it easier for us to fight him. It's going to blow up in his face. . ."

"You assume we'll actually work together," Steve remarked, giving me a strange look.

That was not what he had expected me to even say, but that look melted away when he realized that it would have made more sense if that was pretty obvious. He didn't seem like he didn't want to believe something like that, ignoring the obvious facts to fit his world view. It was like he was trying to give me a chance to speak about it out loud.

"It's just us three," Steve was saying. "Maybe Thor. . ."

"When we work together. . .why am I even telling you this?" I snapped, probably more irritated than I should have been. He did already understand that, and that fact was something he lived through during World War II.

"Maybe I want to hear you say it." Steve was giving me the chance to really speak my opinion. Very few people would even bother to give me that chance, least of all complete strangers.

"When we work together," I actually managed to say. My voice wasn't shaking or very quiet. "We become a part of something bigger than ourselves. . .something greater."

"Then we can do wonders," he finished for me.

* * *

><p>Clint Barton was drinking water out of a paper cup, quietly talking to Natasha. He was still dealing with the effects of having Loki deep inside his mind as his puppet master, and he was probably remembering the deaths that were done by his hands because of Loki. His eyes quickly looked at me when I walked into the medical bay room.<p>

He was surprised to see me, and that surprise turned to a small amount of anger. I was still in high school, even though I was a senior, but I was legally an adult. I had every right to be there if I wanted to. Clint ran in the same circles as my youngest uncle when they were both young hellions.

Life sort of happened. Clint joined S.H.I.E.L.D., using his bow and arrow skills to his advantage and becoming one of the best. My uncle was sent to prison and married his first wife before life sort of made him realize he needed to get his act together. After his. . .probably. . .second or third attempt at college, he was able to become a productive member of society. Despite their differences, they still tried to keep in touch over the years, and it was a friendship that could withstand the tests of time.

"Don't you have school?" He finally asked, and he knew that nothing he would say would make me want to stay to prove him wrong or something like that.

"The college is on fall break," I told him, starting to wash my bloodied hands with some relief. That physical reminder would be gone. "And, the rest of my schedule's a joke."

He shrugged, seemingly choosing to accept that. "Still skipped school."

"Point," I told him, rolling my eyes as I dried my hands. "But, I don't cause too much trouble."

"You can get away with anything."

I quirked up an eyebrow at him. "I keep my head down."

* * *

><p>We looked both ridiculous and bad ass as we walked to one of the few remaining jets that were still in one piece. People were giving us strange looks. It might have had to with the red, white, and blue guy next to me. Maybe. I was wearing all black, so it couldn't have been me.<p>

The pilot working on the jet quickly got to his feet when he saw us walking towards his jet, and he wasn't happy about us being there."

"Hey," he was trying to stop us, but he wasn't too sure about it. "You're not authorized to be here."

"Son," Steve told him, raising one hand up, and his voice was pretty serious. "Just don't."

The pilot could not get away fast enough.

That was how I ended up in the middle of New York City during what would later be called the Battle of New York. I was there. Look for the bright blonde mess of hair and lost of fire. That's me.

We were in New York City when that bright blue light shot up into the sky to create a black hole for the aliens to go through.


	11. Chapter 10

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Tony was trying to fight the aliens by himself. He was only one guy, and the aliens would only fly passed him, ripping apart that part of the city around Stark Tower. These aliens were strange, nothing on Earth would ever compare to them. They were bug-like and were covered by some strange metal armor. There was so many of them, and we were so few. Too few.<p>

"Stark," Natasha said. "We're on three headed north east."

"What?" Tony was saying, sounding a little harried at the chaos all around him. "Did you stop for drive through? Swing up Park, and I'll lay them out for you."

tony flew close to us, and a horde of aliens were quickly following him. Clint shot each alien as they flew in front of Stark Tower.

"Nat," Clint said, and he was able to see Loki on the top of the Tower, gloating over everything that was happening, at all of the destruction. Clint was angry.

"I see him," Natasha said, and her fury was icy cold and just as dangerous.

Clint started to shoot at Loki, maybe to end everything right there. All Loki had to do was move only a little to the side to get out of the way. A blast of the light blue light was shot from the spear, and it hit one of the jet's wings, making us lose altitude. Fast.

Me and Steve had to hang on to parts of the jet that were bolted in place to keep ourselves from being whipped around as much. My head still whipped around a lot, and when we hit the ground, I was still pretty dizzy and dazed. I tried to follow Steve out of the wrecked jet, but I pretty much fallen against Steve. I would have fallen to the ground, but he was quick enough to catch me and hold me long enough to steady me.

His eyes were full of concern when he looked into mine. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling so much better at that point in time.

Then I realized Steve Rogers was still holding me. For a moment, that was all I was really aware of. I felt safe with him, and it really felt right. It was like we were the only two people in the world. I had to quickly back away from him, feeling very reluctant about that.

"I really don't like that going-through-the-laundry-feeling," I remarked.

I pulled my lighter out of my pocket, there being way too many aliens flying around us for my comfort. The flame was free. I could feel it. I threw the flame at a flying alien, and I stared at it to make the flames fly around even more to catch more aliens. My hand closed, and the fire came back to me. It was so the fire wouldn't rain down on the people trying to run for their lives.

That was when we watched the giant worm-whale-thing fly out of the portal. We were only watching it fly over us, feeling very fearful and so full of shock. Chains shot from its sides, and they attached themselves to the buildings on each side. More of the Chitauri climbed down the chains to be on those buildings. Many of them broke through the windows, probably to terrorize the people who worked on those floors.

"Stark," Steve said. "You seeing this?"

"Seeing, still working on the believing," Stark replied, flying over us. "Where's Banner? He show up yet?"

"Banner?" Steve asked, a little surprised at the question. One corner of my mouth quirked up when I realized what could have went through Tony's mind.

"Keep me posted."

* * *

><p>We ran through the ruined streets, and we dove for cover a few times, using different abandoned cars. Clint was looking over the top of the car.<p>

"We got civilians trapped down there," he said.

There were people who were struggling to get to cover as the aliens and Loki were shooting at them.

"They're fish in a barrel down there," Steve said when he looked over the top of the car.

Aliens landed on the top of the taxi, and I threw a fireball at one before spreading it around to the other aliens. I caught the fire, and the two agents were looking at me in surprise. Clint should've expected it from being friends with one of my uncles. Way to pay attention. Steve knew, so he wasn't surprised.

"We got this," Natasha said, snapping back into reality. "It's good. Go."

He looked to me, and I gave him a half smile and winked. It was my way to tell him that I would be fine. We were shot at from above, and aliens landed nearby.

"Think you can hold them off?" He asked us, but he was only concentrating on me.

Clint messed with his arrows, and Natasha had both of her guns out. That was when I stepped away from them, that flame still in my hand, and that flame spread all over my arm and all around me.

"It would be my genuine pleasure," I said, and I took off flying all over that part of the city.

People always found it to be pretty interesting that a family of people who love fire just a little bit too much could expertly control it with too much ease.

I was enjoying it all. Fire. Flying. I was controlling fire, finally letting loose of my control and allowing the fire to burn freely. No restraint. Nothing.

It. Was. Awesome.

I landed on the ground next to the others, feeling very warm, and I fanned my hands around my face. That was a thing about my powers. I had to be careful when I let go of complete control of my powers. Being overheated. Extremely low blood sugar. Extremely low calories. I learned to be very, very careful when I flew around covered in flames.

When I became unsteady on my feet, Steve was there to steady me. For a moment, I used him as a rock as the slight weakness started to go away. Thor made a very hard landing close to us.

"What's the story upstairs?" Steve asked him.

"The power surrounding the cube is impenetrable."

"Thor's right," Tony said. "We gotta deal with these guys."

"How do we do this?" I asked.

"As a team," Steve said, and we made eye contact, understanding what's behind those words and their meaning.

"I have unfinished business with Loki," Thor said.

"Yeah," Clint said as he was fixing some of his arrows. "Well. . .get in line."

"Save it," Steve said, and that was when we began to witness the great leader that my great-grandpa always spoke so highly of. We all listened to him, and some of us put aside that need to be on our own and take the glory. Steve did that with just two words. "Loki's going to keep this fight focused on us, and that's what we'll need. We've got Stark up top, and he'll need us - "

The sound of a dying motorbike interrupted him, and we watched Bruce Banner calmly walk over to us. He wore ill-fitting clothing, and his shoulders were slumped from a deep seated exhaustion. Bruce was far too calm about seeing a crap-ton of aliens all over the place, but the guy could turn into a giant green monster that could rip almost anything apart if he was angry enough.

"Well," he finally said when he was close enough to us. "This looks horrible."

"I've seen worse," Natasha said, referring to her time alone with the very angry Hulk.

"Sorry."

"No. We could use worse."

"Stark," Steve said. "We've got him."

"Banner?"

"Just like you said."

"Well, tell him to suit up," Tony said. "I'm bringing the part to you."

He brought us that giant flying whale-thing. Tony was flying as fast as he could while still allowing it to be close enough to chase him. It kept trying to bite at him.

"I don't see how that's a party," Natasha commented.

"That one's yours," I said, and she gave me a look. I only shrugged at her. I wasn't going to be the one to deal with that.

"Dr. Banner," Steve said. "Now is the time for you to get angry."

The doctor started to calmly walk towards the flying beast, and his skin became green as he started to grow. One punch from the Hulk was all it took to stop the beast, and the rest of it started to flip and curl up, exposing the unarmored sweet spot.

I pulled out my lighter, and my right hand became fire. I shot a couple fireballs at that sweet spot as Tony was shooting at it. The beast blew up, and we all had to duck for cover.

"Gross!" I said, trying not to gag too much.

The alien army stopped their attack long enough to yell out their challenge to us. We were pretty much standing back-to-back in the most badass way possible as the Hulk tried to outroar them all. Thor's grip tightened on his hammer; Natasha loaded her gun; Clint readied an arrow.

Steve looked at me sideways, and I smiled. I was ready for this.

"Call it, Cap," Tony said, for once letting Steve call the shots.


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>That was when Steve gave us his orders. He placed us where we would be the most useful. Clint was up top looking for patterns and strays to help us keep things kind of constrained. Tony would fly around to keep the strays from going too far, and it was pretty easy to have the fly guy against the flying aliens. Thor was close to the portal, so he could use his lightning to shoot down the new-coming aliens. The Hulk gleefully smashed the aliens. We kinda left them alone. He looked pretty happy. Steve looked at me, and I waited for him to tell me what I should do.<p>

"I think you know what you should do," he said, and he didn't really say what. He knew.

I cackled, and I was covered by fire, again. Steve backed away from me, and he actually watched me fly around a bit before he and Natasha started to fight the aliens on the ground.

The fire around me was in the shape of this fiery bird that you could see on my lighter. Crazy long wings that gracefully burned the flying aliens as I flew around. I thought I looked pretty cool.

I loved being at that full power. It's awesome. That's the freedom of flying mixed with playing with fire. As always, I was gleefully cackling as I quickly flew passed the aliens, setting them on fire as they tried to attack me. Once each alien was burnt up, the fire would die away. My dad's a firefighter, so I learned some things.

The battle dragged on, and I had to land back on the ground next to Steve. That time, there was black on the edges of my vision, and I felt a little lightheaded. I was covered by fire far too long. Probably longer than I should have been.

Steve protected me with his shield while my body temperature went down. The blackness faded away, and my breathing slowed down enough for me to be able to help fight the aliens. At that point, it was only me and Steve on the ground since he helped Natasha jump up to one of the flying aliens to get to the portal at the top of the Tower. I don't think I was going to fly for awhile. Too risky.

He ran back to where some people were hiding. The aliens were trying to blow them up with some evil-looking alien explosive device-thing. I was running behind him, covering his back, so I didn't see what really happened inside that bank. I only saw the bright blue light and Steve flying out of the window and landing on some random parked car.

"Hey. . .Cap?" I yelled, realizing I probably should not say his real name or something like that. I was paranoid for him. "You alright?"

I was there helping him get off the car as best as I could. Not a whole lot of strength to speak of.

"I'm fine," he told me, and he actually brushed the glass of his shoulders.

I was going to say something, and I completely forgot about it.

"Oh okay."

"Guys," Natasha's voice came through. "I can close it. I can close the portal. Does anybody copy?"

"What?" Steve asked. "Close it."

"Wait. . .don't," Tony said.

"Stark, they're still coming through."

"There's a nuke coming in," Tony told us. For that brief moment, I was starting to freak out. We're going to die, and there was nothing we could do to stop it all from happening. "And, it's about to blow. I know just where to put it."

We watched Tony chase that nuke. It took me a while to figure out what was happening. He caught the nuke and guided it into the dark hole in the sky.

"What. . .?" I asked.

Steve held a hand at my arm, steadying me a little, and I took a step closer to him. "He made the sacrifice play."

All around us, the aliens collapsed to the ground. Dead. You remember that scene with the droids in _Star Wars: The Phantom Menace_? Jar Jar and his people were struggling against that giant army, and that army just collapsed to the ground. They realized that they had won, and they started to celebrate in relief as they knocked the droids to the ground. That scene played out the almost exact same way for us, but the relief was not happening when we saw the fallout starting to fall to us. We were looking up, waiting for Tony to make it out alive.

Police officer and the National Guardsmen were actually cheering. They were glad that they survived, cheering at us for what we did, for Tony because he's Tony. . .

We were somberly looking up at the sky, hoping that he would come out in one piece and snarky as ever. I was quietly praying.

Steve looked down, not liking what he had to say next. "Close it."

Natasha closed the portal, and I couldn't really look up at the sky any more. I could almost believe that Tony Stark was actually dead and gone. Then he fell out of the portal just as it closed for good.

"Son of a gun," Steve said, and he almost laughed in relief.

It was great to see, but there was something about it that wasn't really right.

"He's not slowing down," Thor said, and he started to swing his hammer to catch Tony.

The Hulk appeared out of nowhere to catch Tony. He tossed him on the ground hanging back as we all stood around Tony. Thor pulled off his faceplate, and I grimaced. Thor was clearly strong, and he brushed it off like it was nothing. Tony wouldn't have appreciated that. There was something about it that wasn't right, and the face that should've had expressions was empty and blank.

Steve knelt next to Tony, and we waited, expectantly as he checked for breathing and a pulse. His arm went limp to his side as he looked up at us. He didn't need to tell us. We knew.

The Hulk didn't like that. He roared, and that actually startled Tony away. He was breathing hard, and the light in his chest that kept him alive was still pretty bright.

"Oh," Tony said quickly when he saw us standing around him. "What happened?" He noticed that Steve was kneeling next to him. "Please tell me that nobody kissed me."

I snorted, and I pointed at the Hulk. That's when we allowed ourselves to celebrate.

"We won," Steve said.

"Oh. Hey. Good." Tony was starting to babble. Not everyone sees Death and live. It was probably just starting to hit him. "Let's not come into work tomorrow. Let's take a day. You guys ever had shawarma?"

"What's shawarma?" I asked.

"You never had shawarma?" He asked me in surprise.

"Have you?" I snapped back.

"Well. . .no," he told me. "But, I do know this place."

"We still have work to do," Thor said.

Loki.

"Then Shawarma after?"


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Loki was struggling through the rubble of the ruined floor in Stark Tower. He looked like he was in pain. We surrounded him, and we all glared down at him, ready if he would attack. He only looked up at us, and he actually deflated.<p>

"If it's anything to you," he told us. "I think I'll have that drink now."

It was over. We stopped Loki and his army of aliens The world was safe for a short period of time, at least, but it would never really be the same.

Thor grabbed Loki, ignoring his injuries, and he hauled him away from that part of the Tower. We sort of let the God of Thunder guard his brother. No one really wanted to argue with him, and he would have been the better guard.

The exhaustion began to hit us all. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. Steve was standing next to me, that much I could see.

"You okay?" I asked him when I opened my eyes to look up at him.

He looked at his side like it was nothing, and it probably was to him. "Yeah." He looked at me. "Shouldn't I be asking you that."

I laid my head back against the wall. "I'm going to be fine. I'll be eating a lot when this all dies down."

He understood what I had told him, and he gave me a concerned look. He went to quietly speak to Tony, and they both looked at me when they were talking. I was starting to sit on the floor, feeling overheated and very clammy. Moments later, Steve was back at my side, holding a small glass in one hand.

"Just have ice," he quietly told me, placing the glass in my hands. "Sorry."

It took awhile for it to sink in for me, and I took an ice cube out to rub around my face to cool it down. "It's better." I gave him a faint smile and popped an ice cube into my mouth. "Thanks."

I was feeling much better in that moment. We were waiting for the Hulk to turn back to Banner before we would leave the Tower, and Steve waited by my side, keeping a concerned eye on me. I felt safe being around him, and I could trust him.

* * *

><p>All seven of us were seated around the table, and there was a lot of food. We were too busy eating to really even care. I'm normally a very, very picky eater, but when I need the calories, I know enough not to turn down food. The trick is to not really taste it.<p>

The owner gave us a weird look when we walked into his wrecked restaurant to order some food. He probably recognized some of us from the all-out battle, but he did take our order and tried to cook what he could. He was trying to clear out some of the debris out of his restaurant.

Tony was staring off into space, only really picking at his feet. Clint and Natasha were eating quietly, but Thor and Banner were digging into their food like there was no tomorrow. Steve had his face in his hands, resting as much as he would allow himself, and it was pretty clear he trusted the group of strangers enough to doze off. I ate my food, washing out the taste with my water, and my hands weren't shaking anymore. I was still making faces as I ate.

Steve was looking at me as he was picking at his food. "What are you doing?"

"I'm from Iowa," I quietly told him. "I've never really have exotic food." I looked down at the remnants of my food. "Don't like it."

He almost snorted when I said that, and that never really happened before. I wasn't really the class clown or as sarcastic as my dad. Lauren was the funny one in our little group of friends.

* * *

><p>We gathered together in a park in the City. There were agents that blocked the perimeter of the park to keep people from walking in on sending the Asgardian brothers away, a strange sight if you think about it.<p>

Bruce and the haunted and harried looking Dr. Erik Selvig took the glowing Tesseract out of its special container to place it in another for Thor and the muzzled Loki to use. Steve was glaring at the thing. It changed his life so much. I reached out to him, touching his arm to comfort him as best as I could. He quickly looked down at me, and his expression softened as he started to accept that.

Loki was muzzled. Everyone was sick and tired of anything he would say. He still rolled his eyes at everything, but he wasn't that threatening any more.

"He's Hannibal Lector!" I said, probably too loudly.

Loki narrowed his eyes at me, and he would have been scary looking if Thor wasn't watching his every movement. Clint cracked up, and Steve gave me a questioning look.

"There was this movie," I quickly explained. "Where there was this killer. . .he was muzzled like Loki. . ."

"Oh. . ." He said.

"Sorry." I gave him a small grimace.

"You don't need to apologize," he told me.

I gave him a small shrug. "Fine, fine."

We were quiet for moments as Thor showed his appreciation and respect for us. He promised us that if we ever needed his help, he wouldn't hesitate to help us. The two brothers messed with the strange container, activating the power of the cube. The bright blue light surrounded them, and they quickly vanished as the light grew brighter and diminished.

* * *

><p>The world saw us pull together and easily fight the aliens. The world will never be the same. That much was obvious. Anyone could become a part of something bigger than themselves that could change the world.<p>

There were people who would like that, but there were also people who were threatened by that, by us.

The world will never be the same again.


	14. Chapter 13

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Tony and Bruce were going to leave when Tony's phone went off. For a moment, he looked concerned and didn't want to answer the phone, but he eventually did. He was only able to say one word before he quickly walked over to me, holding his phone a far away from his ear. I could hear a woman's voice still talking loudly.<p>

"It's for you," Tony said, quickly placing the phone in my hand. He wasn't going to deal with whatever my grandma wanted on his own.

"What?" I mouthed at him as I placed my phone up to my ear. "Hello?"

"Rebecca," my grandma's voice almost bellowed at me. I also had to pull the phone away from my ear a little. She always talked loudly on the phone. "Would you also like to explain why you're in New York and not at school?"

"Um. . ." I was saying, noticing that the rest of them were giving me a strange look, so I quickly walked away from them. "People needed my help?"

"That's my phone. . ." Tony was saying, and I made some kind of gesture with one of my hands for him not to worry about it.

She was quiet for a moment, thinking, and it was pretty unsettling. She was always planning something new and different.

"Are you out of earshot?" She asked me.

I looked to the others, feeling it was safe to say anything more. "Yeah."

"Good," she told me. "I assume Tony managed to read very secret files?"

"Yeah," I told her. "And, Steve looked through some secret crates."

And, I told what we found. She was silent the longer I talked, and I could tell she was not happy about what she was hearing. It was one thing to suspect that something nefarious was happening within the organization, but it was another to have the proof. That was the real reason why she left active duty for S.H.I.E.L.D.

"I was afraid of that," she said when I finished. She stopped being serious for a moment. "Was. . .that. . .?"

I looked back at Steve, smiling a little. "Yeah. They finally found him. Why?"

"Ed saw the news during lunch when he came to the bank," she told me. "He wants to talk to him."

"Yeah," I said absentmindedly as I walked towards Steve. I pulled the phone away from my ear, so my grandma wouldn't hear what I was saying to him. "My great-grandpa wants to speak to you."

He looked like he was both trying to keep himself from agreeing and wanting to along and talk with him.

"When you're ready," I told him.

"I do. . ." He said. "Sometime."

I quickly went back to talking to my grandma. "Yeah. . .sometime soon. He'd talk to him, but we've got to give him time."

She agreed with me and hung up, and I gave it back to Tony, trying to say some kind of thanks and for apologizing for that, but it was still pretty confusing that the call even happened.

"Why would my grandma even have your number?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Your grandfather does. That was something a couple years ago. Actually. . .it was Pepper who mostly spoke with the,."

I walked away from him as he started to leave with Bruce. Oddly enough, I hung back to be around Steve.

My great-grandpa always told us stories about him, and he would always say:

"A true leader was measured by one thing. It's the ability to reign in a group of people with different goals and personalities for that one important goal, and he would place them where their strengths would do the most good."

That's what Steve did. I could begin to respect him even more which was rare when I dealt with an Outsider (basically anyone who has no family or connections to my part of Iowa).

At that point, I couldn't really say anything to him. My shyness, my curse, really kicked in, and I couldn't really look him in the eyes if we talked. . .or kind of talked. I might have responded with a few single syllable words a few times if he was lucky.

I think he had enough of that, and he rested one of his hands on my shoulder and gently had me looking up at him. It took all the strength and willpower I had to look him directly in the eyes.

"You shouldn't be second guessing yourself like that," he quietly told me. "At least not when you're around me."

That was all he really said, then, but there was something about it that would always stick with me. It would shape everything I would later become.

"Yeah. . ." I kind of said back at him, and I was only looking over his shoulder. There was no way I could even continue to look into his eyes for that long. Of course, he noticed that too.

"You should probably try to look someone in the eyes when you talk to them," he was quietly telling me, and he gently had me look into his eyes. His hands were quickly pulled away from me, not wanting to step some kind of line.

He would have sound kinda bossy when he said that, but it wasn't like that at all. It's the way he said that. It had to do with the way he said it. He was very earnest and genuine, making that not even seem like an order, more of a suggestion that would make my life much easier than ever before.

"Good luck to get me to talk if I tried to do that," I ended up replying to him.

He shook his head, not wanting to accept that no matter how many times I would tell him that.

"What?" I asked him, knitting my eyebrows together in confusion.

"Nothing," he ended up saying, not really sounding too happy about that. He hid it well, though. I got to give him some credit.

* * *

><p>That was when we all should have went our separate ways. We all had our own lives to get back to, but we would assemble again in the moment the world would need us again.<p> 


	15. Chapter 14

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>When I got back that evening, I went straight to my room and passed out until the next morning for school.<p>

The next day was deceptively normal. I was the one stuck trying to get my brothers to wake up for school, an impossible task if there ever was one. The moment I was out of their rooms, they would go back to sleep, so they had to wake up when I threw ice cubes in their beds. They weren't happy when I finally succeeded in waking them up.

Then there was the circus that was my car. Billy's friends were yelling about stupid stuff, but they stopped when the strangeness of the world around them actually began to hit them.

"Oh. My. GOD!" Bret yelled. "You were in the Justice League."

"How the hell do you know about the Justice League?" Billy yelled back at him, and Bret flipped him off.

"No, I wasn't," I replied a little louder than Billy. I did a rolling stop, and Billy shook his head like he always did when that happened.

"That's what you were doing," Bret told me.

"Dude," Billy said. "You're talking about a comic book. This is real life."

"Nerd!" Bret yelled, not even registering what was even being spoken about.

"You're the one who - " I was saying, but I sort of just gave up. He wouldn't really understand anyway.

My migraine started to pick up, and I was irritated by everything. They were lucky I wasn't going to scream back at them. I hate mornings.

I was at my locker, numbly shoving my stuff into it as best as I could to be able to close it. Lauren walked over to me, holding a list of the homework for the couple days I missed.

"That's the stuff you missed," she told me. She managed to get the same schedule as me for our senior year.

I looked at it. Nothing. It's basically nothing. The local college was on fall break, so I just had my high school classes during the day. Easy classes that didn't really mess with my college and music classes. It was probably a good thing I wasn't there, or I would've been very bored in class and probably die from boredom. No lie. No joke.

"Wow," I said. "Really?"

"Yeah. . .it was one of those weeks," Lauren agreed with me.

The principal, who actually decided to show up to the school that day, walked out of the office, and he didn't look too happy. He motioned to me, and I walked over to him to follow him into the office. He made this disappointed sound and shook his head.

"Skipping school," he told me. "And you're a senior, too. Not good."

"Um. . ." I said as politely and respectfully as I could. Two days and there were no college classes those days."

"You still skipped school," he told me. "Two days of in school suspension. You'll be doing your homework and reading." Not really a punishment at all. He really didn't know me. Not too much homework, and I love to read. "I hope it was worth it."

That's when I looked down at his desk, and I was looking down at the day's newspaper whose front page article was about us in New York, called "A Day Unlike Any Other." I would say that it was worth it. He noticed what I was doing, and he knew what I was thinking. There was some major backpedaling happening.

"Not a word," he said. "Don't say a word."

* * *

><p>I was able to sleep when he wasn't paying attention, which was most of the time, or he didn't really care all that much. This wasn't much of a punishment, and we both knew it. He was only doing it because he had to. He needed to be consistent, and he needed to have some kind of punishment on the books because that's his job. There was the need to be fair for everyone.<p>

It was probably for the best I wasn't in class during that first day following the events of New York City. I never wanted to be the center of attention, and everyone would've wanted to talk about what had happened. I wasn't ready to talk about it quite yet.

* * *

><p>It was around fourth hour when Lauren started to text me like crazy. I guess the rest of the kids in my class went crazy with current events for our government class. It wasn't everyday when we literally saw the creation of a new era.<p>

Two things happened. Aliens were real, and there was a group of heroes who were openly fighting them. People saw our faces, and they knew most of our names. It was big news. People would never stop talking about it, and it would always be in the news, always there.

The world would never be the same ever again.

Lauren: You're a bad ass!

Me: What?

Lauren: You're on the news. Bad. Ass.

Me: I wasn't really doing anything.

Lauren: You were flying around and setting a lot of aliens on fire. Awesome!

Me: Okay?

Lauren: Guess who thinks it's not you?

Me: Kelli.

Lauren: Did you know that you had a bad ass identical twin sister?

Me: Holy shit. . .no I didn't. Mind blown.

It's one of those things where everyone knows it was me, but there were people who refused to believe what was right in front of them. Kelli was one of them. She would disagree with you if you told her the sky was blue and the grass was green, and she would work to prove how wrong you were. There were other things off with her that weren't too surprising once I thought about them, but I had no reason to think about them at that point of time in my life. All I worried about was the fact that she could be pretty horrible when she was in one of her contrary moods that would piss everyone off.

Janet: You and I are going shopping this weekend.

Me: Why?

Janet: Captain America. You. Know. Captain. America. I'll make you up into a girl, and you'll get your man.

My closest friends knew about my little crush from when we were growing up. She used to tease me about it, goodnaturedly like friends do.

Me: I don't think he cares about that. . .

Janet: The world was falling apart. He had no reason to care about it at the time. Stick by me, girl, and you'll do fine.

Me: Sure, sure.

My mom was the oldest of eight children of a family that would be considered to be an institution in New Orleans, but they never really cared about that sort of thing. The family basically did their own thing and who cared about what everyone else thought about them. My mom and her youngest sister, Tabitha (Tabby) were the more extreme of the family. Tabby was a few years older than me, and she took the role of older sister instead of aunt.

Tabby: Saw you on tv. Glad you didn't burn a building just for the lolz.

Me: Ha.

Tabby: No really. That's what Lanie thought at first. Henry had to talk her down.

Me: Ha.

Tabby: I knew you would save the world.

Me: Right.

Tabby: No really. You would make your friends follow anything you tell them.

Me: My friends. . .

Tabby: For now. . .

Tabby: I'm pretty sure that would change, though. You'll have your chance. . .take it.

That and what Steve had told me back in New York made me rethink what I was going to do with my life. I needed to open my eyes, I guess, and the fact that the world was almost destroyed made me put certain things into perspective. I grew up, or at least I was starting to grow up.

The world was changing, and there was a part of me that needed to change with it, to help the world for the better.


	16. Chapter 15

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I was surprised when I saw him that first weekend. Steve actually came to the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason that I could see. He went out of his way to be at my hometown. He was at the door, leaning against the rickety, metal railing that was barely bolted to the crumbling cement steps, and his arms were crossed. My dog was barking around the yard to get him to pay attention to him.<p>

"You should probably acknowledge his existence," I told Steve, one corner of my mouth quirking up at him in amusement. "He'll only get louder the longer you ignore him."

He gave a very small laugh when I saw that, and he walked over to my dog. The dog was running around him in circles and jumping, too excited to stay still for very long. Somehow, Steve was able to scratch the dog's ears, and my dog was licking his wrist, so happy that the new person was actually paying attention to him. That dog could be so needy sometimes, and we never ignored him.

Steve looked up at me when the dog decided to run off, probably seeing a shiny object or remembering that there was once a squirrel there at some point in the past.

"So. . ." I drew the word out. "What brings a city slicker like you to town?"

"I remember your file," he told me.

I made a face. "That. Yeah. A classmate filled the information out for me because. . ." I didn't say why. I left that hanging, so I shrugged as a way to explain it. There was a reason. "I wouldn't believe anything you read in that file. He has a sense of humor."

"How did you get away with that?" Steve asked, surprised. "It's supposed to help you."

"Mutants don't trust the Man," I told him. "No reason to trust them. I think he of all people should understand that."

He had to accept that, starting to understand that some things never really change as time would go on.

Steve actually lightly touched the healing injury from Loki's scepter before he pulled his hand away from me when he realized what had happened. "You were lucky, but that will never always be the case."

"You're going to teach me how to fight?" I asked him, and he nodded. I made a disgusted sound in the back of my throat. "I never fight. New York was strange for everyone."

My reaction confused him, and he gave me a strange look.

"I'm only trying to help you," he told me.

"I know," I said, really quietly. I never really liked to talk about that to complete strangers. No one really could understand that. "I don't like fighting. That would never make anything better." Then I almost smirked. "I prefer using my head to stop other people."

He seemed to accept that. Few people would. "I would feel much better knowing you don't have to fully rely on your powers."

I was going to argue with him about that, but I couldn't find anything to say back at him. He had a point, but it wasn't just that, though. It was the way he said it that made me realize there could be something more to it than that. Whatever he could really mean by that was very true and genuine.

He was looking around us, trying to find an open place to teach me how to defend myself. I started walking, and I was basically leading him down the block to take him to the empty football field. I was trying to pull my hair out of my face as we walked together.

"You know. . ." I said, drawing those words out. "No one's using the football field."

"How come?" He asked me.

"Our team sucks," I told him. "Away game tonight, so they're nowhere near here, and they're playing a very good team. . .so they'll never use the field for a while."

It was a sign that I was pretty comfortable being around him. The language I used with someone I barely knew was completely different to the language I would use with my friends. I tend to be cruder with my friends, and I would use more swear words. It was pretty clear Steve didn't expect how crude my language was becoming whenever I was around him. I think he realized it showed how comfortable I was around him, so he chose to accept that about me.

There was this old dirt track with weeds growing across it that was around an eighty-yard football field (our school played eight man football. That does exist). That track looked like crap, and you would think that it was never used for track meets. It still was at that point, and track meets create day long work to chalk the lanes and other needed symbols for later in that type of day.

We were on the field, and I had my arms crossed when I looked back at Steve, wondering how this was going to go and waiting for him to say something.

"What do you know?" He asked me.

I kinda shrugged. "Very little. I'm smaller than most people. That's why I use my head. . .or fire if I had to."

He nodded. "I know what I could teach you, then."

Steve patiently taught me how to fight. I don't know how he stayed that patient with me. Sometimes when I'm learning something new, I'm basically clueless, but I could be a quick learner once things just sort of click together.

Time was flying, and different kids would ride passed on their bikes to watch us, totally struck by seeing superheroes in the flesh or something. They could have been bored for all I knew. Steve didn't need to turn around to notice they were there. He could tell because I became less bold and more self conscious. I couldn't really look him in the eyes. My shyness could be ridiculous at times.

"Don't worry about them," he told me. "Don't even think about them."

That's when something weird happened. I listened to Steve and ignored everything around us, and I paid very close attention to only Steve. It worked. I don't know how, but it actually worked.

That was the start of how I didn't really care what other people thought of me. No matter what I did, I wouldn't care what they thought. It was like they weren't even there. I could see why Tabby would act like that. Life was much simpler and far more interesting than ever before.

After our training thing, there was this awkward silence between the two of us. I don't know what was so strange about it, but I didn't really want to think about it.

"You know," I told him, just realizing something. "We're not too far from my great-grandpa's."

Sometimes sensitivity wasn't always my strong point. It had to do with my being socially awkward most of the time. Not a whole lot of practice.

Steve was thinking. "Okay."


	17. Chapter 16

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>My great-grandpa was watching some football game when we walked into his house. He stood to his feet and shook Steve's hand when he realized what was happening.<p>

"Rogers," he said. "It's been awhile."

"Ed," Steve said, trying to keep himself under control. It was probably a shock to his system seeing my great-grandpa.

It was then when I realized this wasn't a good idea. This was too soon for Steve to meet him, and it was all my idea. Now. . .he would probably freak out or something like that, and it was my idea, my fault. I should have been gently about it, but I ignored it, thinking my way was the best way.

While I was silently freaking out, Steve and my great-grandpa were easily talking with each other. Steve was listening with interest as my great-grandpa started telling him different stories about what had happened over the past several decades. He didn't have that pained and half-hearted look on his face. Steve was enjoying those stories.

Maybe it was a good idea.

We left the house, and Steve had me to stop walking, looking down at me.

"Thanks," he told me.

"No problem," I said, feeling a little relieved that he was not really bothered by talking to my great-grandpa.

We still walked to my house, and I saw one of my best friends, Lauren, on her bike, staring open-mouthed at the two of us. She found something else to talk about when she had a chance with me.

"I'll be over sometime again," he told me. "Keep practicing."

Then he was gone. It was strange. He had that mentor-thing going, telling me what I needed to do, but sometimes there was something else to it all. He wanted to see me better myself and take care of myself. That was new for me.

Lauren rode her bike over to me and laid it on the grass of the front lawn.

"Becca!" She said, excitedly.

"What?" I asked back in the same tone she was using.

"He was here," Lauren said. "You need to tell me everything."

I did tell her, and she couldn't really believe everything I was telling her. She was the type of person who would read things into anyone's actions that may or may not be there.

"Someone else could've been told to teach you how to really fight," she told me. "He didn't have to be here."

I didn't really have to say anything to that. what did I know? There were times when she was the smart one. The way she told me that, and I couldn't really not see what she could've meant by that. What she had told me made so much sense for a part of me.

"Here's what you should do," Lauren was trying to tell me.

"Ah. . .no. . ." I said. Her plans were not something I wanted to involve myself in.

"But. . ." Lauren said, and she shook her head. "They work."

Another friend of ours, Janet, stopped by when she saw us talking in my front lawn, and she was probably as dumbfounded as Lauren. Two guesses on what she wanted to talk about.

"So. . ." She drew that word out. Her powers had to do with creating armor from this mental-power thing where the armor would be unbreakable. "Who visited you?"

"His name's Steve," Lauren said for me. "He's going to 'help' her."

"Take those quotes out," I told Lauren, not too happy about that. "Take those quotes out!"

"What quotes?" Lauren looked innocent. "No idea what you're talking about."

"I heard the quotes," I replied. "There are quotes in there. Take them out."

"Alright, alright," Janet said. Sometimes she could be the parent of our little group. Sometimes. "I think I got it." She started to look at me. "Becca. . .you're an innocent. This shouldn't happen."

"Hey!"

"You're an innocent, Becca," Lauren said. "You're like our little baby sister who should not have those kind of feelings."

"I just met the guy."

"You totally had a crush on him when you were younger," Lauren said.

"Younger, yeah," I said. "That doesn't mean now."

"She's totally still crushing on him," Lauren told Janet.

"Yeah," Janet agreed. It was like I wasn't even there. "She never stopped."

They were both clearly amused by that, and I knew they would never let up on that point in my life. Sometimes I just love my friends.

* * *

><p>I did practice like he wanted me to, realizing my life was on the line, and I practiced it like he was watching. That made me want to practice very carefully and with intensity. I think he would've been fine with that.<p>

My brothers watched me practice, and Billy shook his head.

"He doesn't understand you," he told me.

"What?" I asked, stopping what I was doing.

"You don't fight."

"Yeah, I do."

"You fight in a way to get out of it," he told me. "You don't like to fight."

He was right, but I knew that sometimes I would have to put aside what I didn't want to do. There was other lives out there to make that possible for me to reconsider.

"You know," I said, trying to find the words for that. "You do what you can to help people."

* * *

><p>My grandma had me come over to her house one night, wanting to talk to me. When I walked into the house, I saw she had her old family chess set ready for a game, and I could hear her talking to S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Grant Ward as she was getting some tea ready for him. She was known for her hospitality to anyone who came to her house, and she was a pretty good cook.<p>

"With my MS," she was saying. "I can't move around like I used to. She will be working with you."

"I don't think she is ready," he told her. "For this type of thing. It takes a certain type of characteristic."

My grandma gave a light chuckle when he said that. She was not offended by anything he said. That's what we wanted. I sat with her at the chess board.

"Then you should watch," she told him. she became well known as a brilliant strategist, being called the Chessmaster when she was once an active part of S.H.I.E.L.D. "Very closely."

She could count the number of people on one hand who could beat her at a game of chess, and she waited patiently to meet those few people who could and take them under her wing to train them to be a Chessmaster. It had taken me many years, but at that point in my life, I could beat her at a game of chess. Fury witnessed that first hand.

The game went on, and I made my final, surprising move that most people would never, ever do for fear of it backfiring horribly on them. I made the unexpected move to beat her at a game of chess. Ward saw that, deep in silent shock and trying to process what he just saw.

"I will work with you," he was finally able to say. "What do you have in mind?"

I told him, the beginnings of a plan that matched how I would play chess. All I needed was a little bit more information. A Chessmaster was in play, and no one expected it to even happen.


	18. Chapter 17

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Steve did come to Iowa every couple of weeks to oversee my training, and I was becoming more comfortable with those kinds of skills. I could get over myself about not liking fighting, and I wasn't going to go straight for my lighter in a time of a crisis. Steve was a very good teacher, very patient (he has to be when he's dealing with me). It was interesting every time we would meet.<p>

He was not only teaching me how to fight. Sometimes, all we would do was talk. Just talk. Steve made sure I looked him in the eye as I talked to him, never off to the side, at our feet, or over his head. After awhile, I was more comfortable talking to him. I could actually finish full and long sentences without stopping or fading away my words.

That helped me a lot.

There was a day when I was singing my favorite song ever (for the moment, anyway), "Defying Gravity," and he must have heard my voice (little known fact about me: my parents thought I was a musical prodigy, letting me learn how to play many different instruments). I stopped singing when I realized he was there.

"Oh. . .hey. . ." I said. I may be comfortable around him, but I would never admit to being able to sing to anyone. Not even Steve. My family and Lauren and Janet were the only people who knew.

I looked him right in the eyes, waiting for his response. My face was very warm, and I felt like I wanted to throw up. He blinked a few times before he was going to say something.

"You. . .have a nice voice," he settled on saying.

That was always the type of reaction that some people would have if they do accidentally hear me sing. There was always something a little more genuine by the way he said it.

Despite myself, I smiled a little at what he told me. "Thanks."

There was a sense of that lightness when he said that to me. I would sing in front of him after that, feeling comfortable enough to do so. That nervousness was gone when I was around him. It was a pretty nice feeling. That confidence-thing was pretty great.

It was because of Steve.

* * *

><p>There was fallout from New York. The world was never the same after something like that, and people needed someone to blame. It's human nature. Politicians bitched once they climbed out of their hiding places, and they would constantly complain about what had happened to the city, not caring that the damage had been contained. Who cared about how close we were to losing our world. Let's blame the people who helped us. That makes so much sense.<p>

They were the same people who had problems with mutants existing in the world, so that wasn't too much of a surprise to me. Senator Kelly, the man behind the Mutant Registration Act (only for mutants with powers considered to be dangerous by the public at large. We hated it), was saying that Tony Stark was getting far too powerful and needed to be dealt with. Then there was William Stryker Jr., one of the few people in the whole world my grandma hated, said that the Avengers were a very dangerous precedent. I think he only liked "normal" people. Stryker had a relative, a Southern Baptist pastor, who basically said we were Satan's minions or something to that nature. They were the most vocal opponents of the Avengers.

It had been a month since New York City.

There came a night when I was eating a little something after practice, and I was watching the evening news. Billy came into the living room, trying to walk away with half of the pizza before we both stopped what we were doing to watch the news.

The President of the United States was attacked by an unknown mutant who left a ribbon attached to a knife that basically said: "Power to the Mutants!" That was reason enough to suspect that the attacker was involved in Magneto's group of Mutants known as the Brotherhood. Magneto was a prisoner in one of the concentration camps in Nazi Germany. That made him a bit more militant when it came to Mutant rights, so he was considered to be a domestic terrorist. A very dangerous domestic terrorist. Over the years, the Mutant rights thing became more warped for him. He was the man who had been through so much, too much, so it made sense he felt that Mutants were superior to humans.

"That can't be good," I said.

"No shit."

* * *

><p>The first of the repercussions happened after basketball practice the next day. Me and Lauren were in the lobby, waiting for our brothers and chugging some water. Our bags were at our feet, and we were leaning against the wall, coats opened and no hats or gloves. We were still too warm from practice. Our hair was damp with sweat and in messy ponytails. There was some freshmen in the lobby waiting for their own parents to pick them up, and many of the older high schoolers were in the parking lot. The guys were screwing around, throwing snowballs at each other before quickly driving out of the parking lot for the weekend.<p>

By all accounts it was a pretty normal evening.

That was when there were some kids running and yelling back into the building. They didn't even make it before they strangely collapsed to the ground. Men in dark clothing and carrying guns stormed into the school building, shooting at any of us that they could.

Stryker appeared, giving the men their orders. I glared back at him, that blood feud breaking through. Lauren pulled me after her as she tried to get us to any kind of safety. I struggled with her, not wanting to let Stryker succeed in what he was doing. There's a reason why we hated that man and his family so much. He would stop at nothing to get rid of Mutants. Lauren was stronger than me, though, and she pulled me with her.

I watched my brother go down to the ground before I ran away like a coward.


	19. Chapter 18

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>We were running through the small town where our school was, and Stryker's men really ignored us. They had other things on their minds, and they must have gotten what they were after: a number of the younger Mutants of our school. There was nothing we could do to help them at that point of time. It was just the two of us against dozens of armed men.<p>

I wanted to throw up.

I ran like a coward. My brother was suffering from whatever Stryker was doing to him, and instead of saving him, helping him, I ran away. Like a coward. Lauren was still dragging me after her, looking for Janet's house. She stopped running and slapped me. I blinked several times, snapping back into reality. I apparently needed that.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Don't mention it."

Janet opened her door, and she gave us blankets as she called anyone who was still around. If there was a time when we were needed, it was that day. The X-Men were out east and too far away to be of any help to us, and there was something Magneto was doing in New York that made them very busy anyway. It was just us three and anyone we could get a hold of.

The first person who appeared was my second cousin, Tyler, and he had the same power over fire as the rest of the family. He used to live out east with his mother, but the moment he hit high school and received his powers, he came to live with his father, stepmother and half brother and half sister in the middle of nowhere Iowa to better learn how to control his powers and be around people who would understand and never judge him. Tyler looked very mad, probably a rare instance where he showed emotion, but any Stryker had that effect on anyone in our family.

Danielle appeared. She had two powers, or a power with different parts to it. We have yet to figure that one out. Like my family, her powers was deeply connected with her family. She had many second cousins around the area, and they all had the same type of powers. Those powers were becoming invisible and creating force fields. She was a part of our little group of friends. Danielle hugged me when she was in the house, a half-hug like she had to as a friend, and she did the same to Lauren.

Chris and Jacob were the last to arrive. Christ could faze through walls and other people, and Jacob had strength and "unbreakable" skin. They worked very well together, practically being able to read each other's mind. We usually let them do their own thing.

"What are we going to do?' Janet asked us all when we were all there.

"They're not dead," I said, very quietly, and everyone was looking at me. When it came with Stryker and his motives, they listened to me, but everything else they completely disregarded. "That would be a waste for him. He wants something."

"They weren't involved with Magneto," Danielle said. "They wouldn't be able to tell him anything."

"It's Stryker," Tyler said. "There's always another motive with him."

"We need to get them back," Jacob said, actually sounding pretty serious.

I started texting Janet what I had in mind. She was the leader of the Mutants in our area. Everyone would listen to her, and she always had these great plans that made it possible that none of us would get hurt. It was like she could manipulate a situation. Those plans she got from me, actually taking my advice and listening to me. No one would take my plans. No one would listen to me. They would much rather have casualties than ever listen to me and my crazy plans. It's stupid, petty, and very annoying, but I found a way to make my voice heard through Janet. She was fine with that.

She told them my plan. That was the start of it.

* * *

><p>I pulled up my red hood. The red hoodie was something I was more comfortable with than the black suit that Lauren had nicked from the X-Men a couple years ago. It felt more right just wearing a red hoodie and pants I can comfortably run in. Being Firebird meant that my actions were far more important than how flashy my clothing would be (Looking to you Tony!), so I ditched that black suit that I wore in New York.<p>

Tyler also pulled up his own hood. We were both looking around us, wondering if anyone was watching. We were at an unknown S.H.I.E.L.D. compound in the closest real city to our out of the way little sanctuary of a small town, and we had our eyes on one particular jet. We were going to. . .borrow it. . .to get the taken kids back from Stryker.

We basically strolled through that compound without being noticed, but this was a super-secret spy organization. They knew we were there, and none of them were going to stop us. No one wanted to piss off my grandma, so they were going to allow us to take that jet. Tyler and I could fly that jet. His dad did teach us how. We took the others to Stryker's base in Iowa.

One step closer to getting them free.

* * *

><p>There was the telltale sound of the clicks of two lighters that filled the freezing, late fall air, and that was the sign of me and Tyler beginning to act. We were the distraction. The two of us cause a scene in front of that facility. I was shouting "Born This Way," not even trying to make it sound pleasant at all, and I was practically creating fireworks over our heads. Tyler rolled his eyes as he made the fire dance around us.<p>

We stopped playing around once Stryker's men started to surround us. The fire immediately died away as we held our hands over our heads.

"I should have suspected you would show up," Stryker said, walking over to us. "You would never give up on your family."

"Shouldn't have shown your ugly face," I snorted at him. "Some of us treat our families well. Unlike some people I should mention."

He gave me a very dangerous look. I hit a nerve. "You would never understand."

"Try me."

He should have expected this. I was stalling, but his hubris made him want to brag and rant about anything to do with Mutants.

"The world is falling apart," he told us. "And, New York paid the price."

"Actually," Tyler said. "If they weren't there, New York would be a hole in the ground, and we'd be dealing with metal space bugs." He acted like this was a pleasant conversation he was having with an old family friend.

Stryker didn't like hearing that. "That's the problem. Mutants. . .abominations. . .loose cannons. . .we should never rely on them to save us. You are the problem."

He made a small hand gesture, and his men aimed their guns at us. Ice surrounded them, creating cold, cold chains that made those guns useless. Janet ran out of the facility, wearing a dark look of concentration on her face as she held the neck around her neck, and a dark blue armor began to surround her like a glowing light. She ran around them, and they started to shoot at her, trying to use their icy guns as best they could. Not working too well for them at all. As she ran around them, me and Tyler ran to the building to help Chris and Jacob lead the kids to the jet. Danielle created a forcefield around them to protect them from Stryker and his men. Then, all of us were on the jet, and we were gone.

* * *

><p>Billy was glaring when I found him outside, shoveling the powdery, new fallen snow off the driveway. Not good. He only did that when he was truly mad.<p>

"You okay?" I asked him.

He stopped scooping and shoved the shovel into a pile close to him. "Peaceful talks are bullshit."

"What?" I asked. That was pretty out of context for what was happening at that exact moment.

He looked back at me, never once letting up on his glare any time soon. "They wouldn't accept us unless we convince them forcefully." He shook his head.

"You mean. . ." I said, not really happy about that for some reason, but he could be forgiven for that, I guess. "We're better than them?"

"They think they're better than us," he replied. "I know that Professor Xavier's a great guy, but his ideas are so outdated. They will never work. They hate us, and they'll always hate us."


	20. Chapter 19

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I was waiting for someone at a coffee shop, sipping and cringing at the taste of my coffee. A small thumb drive was on the table, and I spun it around every once in a while. That thing bothered me, but it needed to be done. My grandma asked that it be done. What happened to the school and to my brother was unacceptable. Stryker needed to be punished for that.<p>

A young woman, a little older than me, walked into the coffee shop, and she walked directly towards me.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked me. At the time she didn't give me her name, and I didn't ask for it.

I pushed the thumb drive over to her, and she looked at it with some interest.

"You might find this interesting," I told her very quietly. "I didn't give this to you."

She hid the thumb drive and winked with her understanding. "Maybe. . .maybe no. . ."

The young woman walked away, and I knew the information was enough for her to tell the right people. That was definitely up her alley. I pulled out my phone and texted my dad:

"Done."

People shouldn't mess with anyone in my family. We would find a way to make them pay. Many people in our family had great connections, and those connections would do anything to help us.

"Oklahoma." Pause. "Stupid autocorrect." Another pause. "Ok."

* * *

><p>There was this social-media and Wikileaks type thing known as The Rising Tide, and in the weeks following New York, they became very powerful. What happened proved that we couldn't fully trust S.H.I.E.L.D. That group's mission was to reveal to the world what that organization did behind closed doors. The public needed to know. No one knew how many people were involved with the Rising Tide, and no one even knew their real names. They were called hacktivists.<p>

One story shot that group into the limelight. It was a story that spoke of a powerful political figure of the sixties and seventies making a treasonous deal with Russia during what became known as the Bay of Pigs fiasco. That politician's name was William Stryker, Sr. Time had passed since then, but the people of the United States still felt a sense of outrage about that information. We trusted him, respected him, and he threw it back at us.

That would destroy Stryker's chances of getting some kind of power in the wake of the Mutant attack on Obama. He would never get what he was after, or at least he would be thwarted for a while, maybe long enough to actually figure out his plans and be able to stop him.

William Stryker the Elder's name and reputation were ruined, and my grandma was very pleased with that.

* * *

><p>The attack on our school actually overshadowed That Day in New York. This was closer to what we're dealing with on a daily basis. We always thought our communities were safe, and we always worked to keep it that way. Sometimes, though, the world would kick back at us.<p>

William Stryker the Younger's ruined reputation was something we all loved. We hated the guy, and we hoped that the actions of his father was enough to make people realize that anyone bearing the last name Stryker should never be trusted. It would take him awhile to rebuild his shattered reputation.

Whenever The Rising Tide would be mentioned, Lauren would look at me and raise a questioning eyebrow, and I would only shrug back at her, like I had no idea what she was even talking about. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

People ignored me whenever they saw my brother. It was pretty clear he had been through a lot in such a short period of time. He saw things that no one his age should have to witness. Billy's personality changed. He was angrier than ever before, and it was pretty clear that he held opinions that weren't that much different from Magneto's. It was disappointing for me. He took away our family's and the rest of the town's beliefs about why we had those powers.

That was one of the few times I refused to be by his side. I was colder to him. He had the same opinion as Magneto, so I used the same treatment as he would use to a human. Colder. Barely even there.

I was mad at him. But, secretly, I was more mad at myself for turning my back on him.

* * *

><p>Steve was back, and he was not just there to help me train. He would ask me several questions on things that had happened since the Second World War. I was honest with him, explaining how it had ended, the nuclear bombs being dropped in Japan and the uneasiness of the intervening decades. I almost told him about what my grandparents did during what the public thought was the Bay of Pigs fiasco, but I stopped myself.<p>

"Never mind about that," I told him.

"What?" He asked, seeing through that.

"I'm not supposed to say that," I told him. "Not enough time had passed to make that possible."

"Did it have to do with that Stryker?" Steve asked me, and I gave him a very small nod like I wasn't really saying anything.

Billy walked into the living room, eating some messy sandwich which was probably his sixth one for the past hour or something. I must have glared at him or something, and he walked away, muttering to himself. Steve gave me a strange look. That was uncharacteristic of me.

"What?" I asked him.

"What just happened?" He asked me.

"I don't know," I told him, shrugging a little. He wouldn't accept that. "The effects of what had happened."

Steve had heard about what had happened, and he could tell that whatever had happened could have changed my brother. He was able to see through me, and he probably knew what bothered before even I did.

"You're still his older sister," he told me.

"Yeah," I said, still not seeing what he was talking about.

"It's just a different view of the world," he told me. "You're his sister. You shouldn't care about what he believes. He's fine, right?"

"To a point," I told him, suddenly understanding what his point even was.

Billy was back upstairs, and I went to hug him. He relaxed a lot when that happened before he pulled away from me, saying it was embarrassing or something like that. It was the beginnings of what I would later say about my brother's later activities. We had different beliefs and ideologies, but we still respected each other because of them. I started to understand why he had those beliefs, and I easily defended him.


	21. Chapter 20

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>My senior year went on normally. My classmates, and I were freaking out over what college we would go to, and what scholarships we would get. It was weird. We were so close to being in the real world, and it was very weird and unsettling.<p>

Life was going on normally, but nothing was ever really the same. It was supposed to be a new era in the world, but nothing really felt like it should be different.

It was surreal.

You could hear in all of the halls in our school kids talking about the Avengers, which made sense. We were young. Of course we would always talk about superheroes fighting off aliens. But, these conversations could turn serious very quickly. Because the whole world saw people with special abilities save the world, would that be a good thing for Mutants? Stryker was still busy fixing his shattered reputation, and that attack on Obama seemed to only be an isolated incident. Was that even possible?

Maybe, maybe not.

It was very important for our three communities. There were more Mutants per capita in that middle of nowhere Iowa than probably other parts of the country. A lot of us didn't want to leave our small towns. The people we grew up with or around didn't care that we had these strange powers. It was still an after effect of the major beliefs that our communities had. These powers were given to us, so we could help people because of God's will. Demonize a Mutant, criticize God's will. That's what the God-fearing Lutherans believed that was happening.

We were curious.

Obama used New York and the scandal surrounding Stryker to create a new department for his Cabinet, and it was long over due. The Department of Mutant Affairs. His choice of the head for that department was both criticized and praised. Senator Robert Kelly automatically assumed that he would be chosen. Stryker wondered if he would be picked from his own experience, but Obama surprised everyone.

He chose a very high profile Mutant, someone who lived through the hate and fear and dealing with those powers, and he was one of the first X-Men from back in the sixties. You might recognize him as the Beast. His almost cat-like appearance and blue fur was pretty unmistakable.

It held the potential to create a better life for people like us. The world wasn't the same, and that could be for the better.

There were people who hated that new development. Anti-Mutant Protests spread across country. There were more older people, my youngest uncle's age and older, who hated the idea that freaks of nature were getting some rights. My planning became very different for my future, but I wasn't fully sure about that at first.

* * *

><p>It was a big basketball game, determining who would be conference champs. That was a great year for us, probably one of the best in almost four years, and that night, we were playing another school who was also having a pretty good season. The game was going to be a good one, far too exciting.<p>

That was also the one game Steve was able to attend. I smiled a little when I saw him walk into the gym with Clint like it was nothing to him. Lauren and another friend of mine, Maggie, gave me knowing smiles when they saw that. They knew.

It was the first game I was ever able to start for varsity. I surprised people with how much I had improved since freshman year. It probably had a lot to do with me and Billy trying to outdo each other in shooting three pointers and being jump crazy, and we always practiced on that. I sort of became the secret weapon. No one ever really expected what I could do.

I ran faster than I ever had, and I became just aggressive enough to get possession of the ball and keep it. My best game. I wasn't even self-conscious with Steve watching me from the crowd. It was like when he was teaching me. Since it was like he was my support system, I wasn't as meek and quiet that night as I normally would have been. I took charge when I needed to. The game ended, and we won. We were all crying because we were so happy, and the other team was so disappointed after believing the game would've been theirs.

I was about to go on the stage with a couple of my friends when I saw Steve, and he wanted to talk to me. Lauren made a small hand gesture to leave me alone to talk to him and save me a spot on the stage.

"Hey," I told him, wearing a small smile at him.

"Hey," he told me.

We were in the hallway close to the steps to the stage, and not a whole lot of people were around us.

"I didn't think you would come," I told him, and he shrugged.

"Not a whole lot was happening in S.H.I.E.L.D. for awhile," he told me.

"So you. . ." I was going to say, but I stopped myself from finishing that, shaking my head.

We were talking for that moment, and it was easier for me to talk to him than ever before.

* * *

><p>My great-grandpa always looked forward to those visits by Steve. Many people of his generation were slowly going away, so maybe talking to Steve wasn't that bad.<p>

I did learn a lot of different stories about my great-grandparents' time with the Invaders and the Howling Commandos, and I listened in rapt attention. I always loved to hear those types of stories, and a lot of them, apparently, were not told to us when we were growing up, especially proving how my great-grandma earned the name Spitfire. Whenever that name was spoken about, Steve would give me sideways looks like he thought they could be about me. I would always return a "what" look.

Why would he do that?

My great-grandpa's health was starting to fall fast. It was probably a good thing that Steve talked to him when he did. It was another sign that time marches on and waits for no one. An era was going to pass away, but he was stronger than most people realized. There were some things in this world that could shake even him, and the one steady thing, the bank that he helped build up during one of the darkest times in U.S. history go up in smoke and flames.


	22. Chapter 21

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>It was a warmer night towards the end of April, and I stayed up much later that Saturday night just because. I was trying to talk to Lauren about random things, but she kept turning it back to Steve.<p>

"Do something," She said to me.

"What?" I asked, not really happy about her saying that over and over whenever we would meet.

"He's always coming over," Lauren explained. "Think about it."

My face became very hot, and my stomach began to flip and dance. That might have been why she kept bringing up Steve to me.

"Becca. . ." Lauren asked me when I didn't really say anything.

"What?" I said, barely saying anything. "I'm not going to think about it."

"You're no fun."

"I get that a lot."

Lauren snorted back at me. "Channel your inner. . .me. . .no. . .your aunt. . .channel your inner Tabby."

"I'd rather not," I told her, almost shuddering at the thought. Tabby didn't know the meaning of the word restraint.

"Oh come on!"

"Think about it," I had to tell her very patiently. "Please, really think about it."

I heard my mom's pager go off and her starting to swear as she quickly left to go on that call. It was almost one in the morning. I didn't really think too much of that at the time. Bobby came into my room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and I gave him a look and gestured at him to leave my room.

He actually rolled his eyes and grabbed one of my notebooks that were lying on my floor, and he wrote something down and flipped it over to have me see what he had written.

"Bank's on fire. Maybe arson. Maybe not."

Lauren had been trying to say something to me, but I was not really paying attention to her. Everything around me began to fade away as I focused all of my attention on that notebook.

"Earth to Becca. . ." Lauren said, probably for the twentieth time.

"What?" I asked, snapping back into reality and shaking my head. "I'm sorry. . ."

"You okay?" Lauren asked, at first sounding pretty concerned . "Were you thinking about Him?"

"No," I said, shaking my head again. It was horrible.

I wanted to swear in some kind of anger. This wasn't right, too wrong. I was very angry, and I wanted to yell about anything and everything.

"Well. . ." She said. "What?'

"Fire call," I said, and Bobby was becoming increasingly impatient with me. "Bank. Arson? I have to go. . .bye!"

I quickly ended the call and tossed my cell phone onto my bed. If I needed to go anywhere quickly , I would have said something like that to Lauren, so she was pretty used to me doing that. She knew that something bad was happening, and it wouldn't take long for her to go help me if she realized I needed it.

I quickly put on my boots as I tried to follow my brother out of the house, and when I was outside, I could see the smoke rising up to the sky. A lot of smoke. Me and Bobby looked at each other and back at the smoke.

"Oh crap," I said. My voice was emotionless.

Firefighters from different communities in the area were helping out town's firefighters tackle that intense blaze. I was not a firefighter, but I could tell that the building wasn't going to last, a goner. Me and Bobby just stared at it all, not really processing what was happening around us.

That bank had been there since it first opened during the turn of the century, though it had grown and changed a little on the inside and outside over the years. Since my dad, grandpa, and great-grandpa had worked at the bank, I pretty much grew up in that building, and I had all of these pleasant memories from that bank. It was pretty difficult knowing that it was all going up in smoke and flames.

On the side of the building we could see the words: Got to Hell, Muties! That might have explained the possible arson theory, but I was not an arson investigator.

We helped our mom by giving the firefighters bottle of water and keeping them from leaving the ambulances while their vitals were being checked and being given oxygen. They weren't happy about that, but it was supposed to be done to make sure they would live. I think they understood a little when we did that, but they had wanted to put out that fire and keep it from spreading to the other buildings.

There were people of our town who were awake, watching it all happen. Some kids were taking pictures, but it did look a little cool to see the firefighters in action. The words were what really drew their attention.

That sort of thing should never have been happening in our town, but it did. The horrible outsiders were coming into our sanctuary and bringing their hate and fear into our homes. It was the first thing that had happened here since Mutants became so widely well known. This was supposed to be a safe home for us, but the hate of the outside world broke through.

Janet found me, and I started to talk to her.

"We need to get the others together," I told her. "Everything. We need to protect our homes. This cannot happen again. Never again."

"I'll get everyone together," she told me. She understood. "What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know, but I guess I'll have to find it," I admitted. "We'll come up with something to defend our homes."

That was a major turning point in my life. Like my brother, my eyes were opened, and I knew I needed to act. That was where I was different from him and Magneto, though. There was always another way to stop the hate and fear from spreading all around us. I would be the one to find those different ways.

My future changed in that moment. I had unconsciously took the step towards something so much different than what I had originally had in mind, and I chose a life that would've normally been something I would scoff at and completely ignore.


	23. Chapter 22

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>That early, early morning went on forever, and the fire was still going strong. It was pretty clear that the old building wasn't going to survive through that morning, but firefighters still worked on it like it might. At that point they were working to keep the fire from spreading down the block. My dad and the other IT guy managed to grab both the security footage and most of the bank computers, for the server, and Billy and Bobby were taking those things off to the side to keep them out of the way to deal with later.<p>

When my dad was drinking some water, a deputy came up to him. He was wearing a very lost and very frazzled expression on his face.

"Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on my dad?" My dad asked him. He actually seemed a little amused about it.

My grandpa had recently retired from the fire department, and grandma wanted to make sure he wasn't going to get too hurt on any of those calls. My dad had asked that deputy to keep an eye on my grandpa and keep him from from getting too involved with anything. It turned out that deputy couldn't keep up with my grandpa.

"I think I lost him. . ." The deputy admitted. "I thought he'd be here. . ."

We looked around, and grandpa was actually talking with some of the bank ladies, probably planning what they needed to do in the time to come when it came with what they were going to do with a building for the bank. He definitely had his back turned to those burning and charred words.

The bank was pulled down to the ground to better put out the fire, and the older bank ladies looked on, placing their hands over their mouths. My grandpa wore an unreadable expression on his face, but what was happening looked like this might have affected him to his core.

Lauren ran over to me and gave me a hug, and I could barely hug her back. She was lucky I didn't just push her away.

"I'm so sorry, buddy," she told me. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah," I kind of said, tearing my eyes away from the smoldering remains of the bank.

I actually started to feel really tired, and I could barely keep my eyes open or stare straight. My mom noticed that, and she had Lauren walk me back to my house, so I could get some sleep.

My great-grandpa drove passed us, stopping near me and my mom, and he stepped out of his car. All he did was look at the smoldering ruins of the institution he helped build up and sustain during the worst of the Great Depression. He closed his eyes and shook his head, and he started to talk to my mom. I could hear his voice shake with his contained emotion, and I quickly walked with Lauren. My eyes watered a little, and I almost cried a little.

There was only a few times I saw him show that kind of emotion, and they always had to do with talking about great-grandma since her funeral. It wasn't that much of emotion, but he still showed some. He did look pretty pale, and that only brought out the dark circles under his eyes. It shook him a lot.

He knew of the message, and no one should have had to deal with that. Those hate filled words cut straight through to us and how we lived. Parts of the world had never changed at the dawning of the new millenium.

"It took me awhile to get here," he apologized to my mom. "That was one of the few times I saw him look his age, so he really did see those words burned into the side of the building. "I felt my knees go weak. I had to wait."

* * *

><p>I was out until around noon before I couldn't really stay asleep any longer, and rolled out of bed and stared out the window. There were still a lot of people on Main Street dealing with the aftermath of the bank being burnt to the ground. I almost forgot about early this morning.<p>

It wasn't so much that the building was burnt to the ground. It was only a building, but it held a lot of memories. The fire itself was a message to all of us. None of us were safe, not even in our own homes.

I shook my head. There was no use thinking about it.

I walked out of the house, and Lauren found me. She must have been waiting for me as she kept an eye on our brothers and their ridiculous group of friends. She was quickly talking about something, but I was only looking at my brother, Billy. He had that frown again, so it was pretty clear that he had seen those words on the side of the building. Billy had that same determination as me.

I had to figure out what Lauren was telling me, and she was trying to help me not dwell too much on what had happened. It was the main reason why she was my closest friend.

Most of that afternoon, me, Lauren, Billy's brother, Ethan, and a couple other of my friends and Billy's other friends were on the football field, just messing around. It was a way to not think about the world beyond our little town in Iowa.

Lauren elbowed me in the side and pointed to the track. There was Steve watching us as we looked pretty ridiculous.

"Go," she mouthed at me, and I rolled my eyes.

I walked over to him, and I could tell that one of the corners of his mouth was turned up a little in some amusement.

"Hi," I said, kind of giving him a small smile, but I was too tired to make it last.

"Hi," he told me. Then the amusement lessened, and he was a little more serious. "Are you okay? I mean. . .I heard about what happened. . ."

"I'm fine," I told him. "I'm not really going to. . ." I shook my head. "I don't know. Right now I'm too tired to really think about it, so I'm not going to think about it."

Steve was going to say something to that, and he only shook his head.

"I know what was left on the building," he told me, and I became very quiet when I looked up at him.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, keeping my voice calm and steady. "We're dealing with this in our own way."

That didn't seem to sit too well with Steve, and he reached out to me before stopping himself. He started to shake his head again.

"You don't need to deal with this on your own," he told me. "S.H.I.E.L.D. can help."

I made a face at him, and he realized that I had some problems with that super secret organization despite my connections to it. I didn't want to tell him the full truth yet. The truth was too far fetched that I thought even he would have issues believing it, and there were the repercussions of telling it to everyone. They would know, and I would be punished for it.

"People here have issues trusting outsiders," I told him. "We are self-reliant."

"You don't have to be," Steve told me, and I couldn't say anything to him.

It was pretty clear he thought he was helping us, and I couldn't help but appreciate that genuine action. It was pretty hard not to. I almost smiled a little at him.

"People hate us," I told him. "It's hard for us to trust anyone."

Steve gave me this very serious and earnest look. I felt that I couldn't really look at him, and I had those stomach flips again, feeling a little weak in the knees.

"You can trust me," he told me.

I actually smiled at him, making him blink several times at the brilliance of my smile. I nodded over to the others. "Fine. You wanna join. Sometimes our serious talks turn into something not so serious. They won't care."

"Join what?" He asked me, looking at the others.

I grabbed his hand and led him to the rest of the group. My brother managed to make the old stadium speakers work, and country music was blared all around us. All of the guys were being ridiculous and trying to outdo each other. I looked at Steve and rolled my eyes in amusement.

"Yeah. . .never mind," I told him, almost laughing. "It might be too. . .yeah. . ."

Steve actually laughed a little at my reaction, and that was enough to get me to laugh with him. It was easier to laugh with him the more I got to know him, and I could look into his eyes when I talked to him. He was pretty pleased with that, and I had to playfully narrow my eyes at him, still laughing a little with him to show I wasn't that truly mad.

Lauren watched us, and she was starting to wear a knowing smile. I didn't get it at the time. All I was really aware of was easily talking and laughing with Steve, and it was only the two of us in the world.


	24. Chapter 23

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Time passed, like it does. May finally arrived, and with it there was the warmth of the summer sun, and the antsy uneasiness of the seniors who were counting down the days until graduation. Later in the afternoons, high school students would be running around town to train for track, always looking for ways to defend their homes and families. We were trying to forget the night of the fire and the message it had brought with it, but we would always see the ashy debris and the damage.<p>

No one really wanted to think about that part of the real world. We had issues understanding why people could hate other people who were different so easily.

Steve still came to see me, but we were training less and less. At the time, I thought he could tell I could fight, but I chose not to unless I realized I really needed to. Despite that, he would still come over.

There was a time when he was actually invited into the house by my mom. He was kind of looking at the different pictures of me and my brothers over the years, with each other, sports pictures, with our friends. He noticed a recent picture of me from senior prom from a few weeks before that moment. I was actually wearing a dress that had many different very bright colors and animal print and black converse high tops. My longish hair was curled, and I was actually wearing a little make-up. I did not look like my usual self in that picture, but if you looked closely enough, you could tell that it was me.

He looked at that picture for a moment, and his eyes would dart to look at me for several moments before he moved away from the picture, and he didn't say anything. he was not going to explain his reaction. There was a part of that was a little hurt about him not saying anything. I guess that part of me wanted to know what he had thought about how I looked. The more rational part of me promptly stopped that line of thought by considering hit to be pretty shallow. I was pretty good at that.

He had to quickly change the subject, and one of the paintings on the wall was the most perfect excuse. It was a painting of the old train depot from the early beginnings of the town.

"Did you do that?" He asked me, gesturing to the old painting.

"Ah. . .no. . ." I told him. "I can barely draw let alone do something like that. My great-grandma made it."

He gave me a curt nod. "I didn't know she was an artist."

I shrugged. "I have a feeling she kind of decided that she could paint one day, and she could."

Steve laughed a little when he heard that. He knew her enough to understand what that could have meant. We never spoke about what had happened earlier.

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><p>There was senior awards night a week or so before we, the seniors, were finally finished with school. Some kids were given honors for academic athletic, or fine arts recognition, and scholarships were given that night as well. I sat with Lauren, Janet, and Danielle, and we were quietly talking with each other and making some jokes here and there.<p>

The awards went where we pretty much expected them to go. I got a lot of the musical awards, and some of the more athletic classmates got the sports awards. It was when the scholarships were being handed out that things became a little unexpected. The scholarships were usually handed out by the two community colleges in the area and local businesses and trusts that were established, and a lot of them went where we had expected them to. I didn't get any of the scholarships that I had applied for, so I was getting a little ticked off. People held certain opinions about our family, so apparently, I had no need for scholarships. Grandpa could just write a check to the school for me to have it all covered.

That was when Tony Stark made his grand entrance.

His appearance actually caused all of the kids to go completely quiet. No more snide comments under the breath. No more jokes. Whatever he had to say had our complete attention.

"I've never been good with speeches," Tony was saying. "Usually, Pepper would have to hand me some note cards to memorize." Everyone laughed at that. "Here goes." He cleared his throat. "I meet a lot of people who think they can change the world, or they expect me to believe that they can. Very few of them could actually change the world in any way." We all looked at each other, having no idea what he was talking about, so it was clear that Pepper Potts was the one who would write any of his speeches. "I met one person who has the potential to change the world." There were two people in my class who felt like he was only talking about one of them. They were the ones who were always chosen for something like that, so that day shouldn't have been any different. "Rebecca Tjaden."

I was quickly on my feet, avoiding to make eye contact with some of the people around me. That totally came out of left field, but once the shock began to wear off, I knew that they would snidely whisper behind my back. My connections got that scholarship. I didn't deserve it. It's not fair. I rolled my eyes at that thought and walked onto the stage.

I took the certificate and shook his hand. "They're going to be pissed."

"They could deal with that," he whispered back at me. "It's true."

Basically that scholarship was going to be a full ride, no matter how long I would be in school or if I would do grad or law school, to any school I would go to. I didn't need to worry about anything. Just focus on my classes and changing the world.

* * *

><p>Graduation was the stepping stone for what could happen in the rest of our lives. I could hear different promises that had been made for old friends to get back together and hang out in the years to come, and there were those promises to fulfill the mission our ancestors had created when they realized that there was a number of them who had strange powers. We would move to different parts of the country to help people by saving them from whatever new or different crazy thing the world would try to throw at them or to help new mutants learn how to control their powers. It was what we had been heading towards for most of our lives.<p>

It was both rewarding and frightening for most of us, but we had to persevere to work on that one mission.

Me and Lauren would go to the same school out east, not being the only ones who would go out east, and the rest of our class would go in different directions across the country. We weren't sure if we would ever see each other ever again, but that's life for us. We learned to deal with it a long time ago.

Sometime that summer was the same period of time that Professor Charles Xavier had completely disappeared without a trace.


	25. Chapter 24

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I was reading something for one of my classes in the cafeteria, and I was only vaguely aware of what was being told on the news. To me it was just background noise to cut through the annoying silence. People were beginning to freak out about what was on the television screen, so I had to look up and get out of my own world.<p>

The news was going on and on about that old attack on Obama back when he was still president. His actions during election season when it came to Mutants made him never be president for his second term. That much was clear from the reactions all across the country the past several weeks, even that long time before the election it was pretty clear that he was never going to remain president. The attack should've been old news, but someone brought that to the surface once more.

William Stryker Junior finally fixed up his reputation enough to deal with the so-called Mutant Problem. It took almost a year, but everything was starting to happen and rip my world apart. I hated the man. He was going to get his way and kill every Mutant he could find.

I spent the rest of day in my dorm room with Lauren, talking about what was happening all around us. That was basically how we would plan things at that point in our lives. My roommate, an artsy type of person, basically avoided our room. She didn't outwardly hate Mutants, but she really didn't like those minor differences. She really didn't want to hear us talk about fighting for Mutant rights or something like that.

What was going on? What were we going to do?

My cell phone was going off like crazy, and I answered it, not sure who was on the other end. Xavier had been missing for a few months, and it was a number from that school. It really could've been anyone. I didn't know too many students from that school anyway.

"Hello?" I said, putting it on speaker phone, so Lauren could also hear it.

"Becca?" A girl's voice said to me. "We're on campus. Which dorm. . .?"

I looked up at Lauren, and we both wore looks of confusion. "Two things first. How did you get this number, and do I know you?"

There was some nervous laughter on the other end. "Sorry. I'm Kitty Pryde. I got your number from Nate." Nathaniel Summers was the oldest child of an old friend of my dad's, Scott Summers, and Jean Grey.

I told her where my dorm was and what room to look for, but she wasn't going to tell me anything more about what was really happening to bring her, a virtual stranger though friend of a friend, to the campus of my school.

Moments later, we let four people into the room. There was Logan, someone my grandparents knew for many, many years, and none of them really wanted to say how or why they never wanted to really speak about him too much. The shorter Kitty Pryde was the next one who entered the room, and at least she was the more talkative one, willing to introduce the other two. One was Peter Rasputin, the silent giant who was very overprotective of Kitty, and the other was a angry-looking young man, John, who loved to play with his own lighter.

"Okay. . ." I said when they were all in my room. "What's going on?"

"They finally attacked us," Kitty explained. "They came to the school. At night. They managed to take some of us."

I actually shivered at what she had told me, and Lauren shook her head, looking pretty upset. Leave it to Stryker to mess with the kids.

"Why?" Lauren asked. "It doesn't make him look too good."

"Don't know," Logan was saying. He had a faraway look in his eyes like he was trying to remember something.

We had no idea what we were going to do or even what could be done. The kids could have been anywhere, and Professor Xavier could be either dead or alive. For all we knew, it was only going to be us against Stryker. We had to do something. . .anything.

My roommate awkwardly walked into the room to grab some of her stuff that she needed to work on. She looked at all of us, and she started to wear a slight look of disgust though she worked to hide by trying to be polite to them. John snapped and went to attack her with his own power over fire, and that was when I knew I couldn't ever like him.

I stood in between him and my roommate, and I took most of the fire before I raised my left hand. The fire formed into a ball, and I crushed it by clenching my fist.

"We'll be leaving. Now," Logan said, grabbing John's arm as he walked out of the room. "Our ride's here."

"You should probably grab his lighter," Lauren said.

I looked back at my roommate and gave her a quiet apology, but she didn't really acknowledge me. That always seemed to happen. Lauren grabbed my arm and pulled me after her. We're going to help them. Somehow.

The X-Jet had landed in front of the library, and students were surrounded, looking at it and taking pictures of it with their cellphones. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up, so people wouldn't get a picture of me. I was probably breaking several different rules just by walking into the jet.

The jet was piloted by Storm, Ororo, and Jean, and there was a third person. He had blue skin that had different angelic, script-like symbols carved into it.

"Who's this guy?" Logan asked.

"I am Kurt Wagner," he introduced himself. "But, in the Munich Circus, I was known as the Amazing Nightcrawler."

The X-Jet flew away, and we were silent. There was more of us, yes, but we had no idea what we were going to do. Numbers mean nothing when we're basically lost and moving around blindly.

People noticed the jet, and we were being followed by people. And, by people I mean S.H.I.E.L.D. The other pilots were ordering Jean and Storm to land the jet, but they wouldn't.

The other jets pulled back, and we were pretty silent. That shouldn't be good. We strapped ourselves to our seats, feeling a sense of foreboding.

"That's. . ." Jean was saying. "They've targeted us."

"Brace yourselves," Storm told us, her eyes turning pure white as the sky around us became darker.


	26. Chapter 25

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Storm flew the jet between the dozens of newly formed tornadoes, and I gripped the straps holding me into my seat. I almost threw up. There was a reason why I hated flying in a jet, unless I had more control. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, praying that it would end.<p>

I snapped my eyes open, and I realized that something strange started to happen to Jean. For some reason, there was a faint outline of a bird made of flame, and it almost looked like her eyes had that more distinct shape of a bird in them as she concentrated on the two missiles that were shot at us.

"Oh. . .no. . ." Jean said when the strange vision of the bird of fire disappeared completely, leaving an exhausted and pained Jean. "I. . ."

The remaining missile hit the jet, ripping a giant hole in the back of the jet, and my seat belt malfunctioned. I was thrown out of that giant hole, falling very quickly to the ground. I was so afraid, and I couldn't find a breath, let alone my concentration. My eyes were tightly closed. I didn't want to look down at my death.

I could only faintly hear the calming reassurances in German as arms were suddenly wrapped around me, and just as suddenly, I was back in the jet that was starting to lose control. Kurt was the one who saved me, a teleporter who acted very quickly. Despite that chaos around me, I was starting to breath normally and calmly, and Jean and Storm were working to keep the jet from crashing.

The jet abruptly stopped falling, and the jagged hole in the jet was slowly closed up by some unseen force. The het was gently placed on the ground, and we quickly stumbled out of the jet to see Magneto, Mystique, Quicksilver, and the Scarlet Witch. Magneto's hand was outstretched in front of him, and he looked so amused when he looked at us.

"When will you ever learn how to fly?" He commented.

* * *

><p>The older people were busy planning and discussing about what was happening, leaving us out of everything. We were too young to get involved. Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch kept to themselves for the most part, and we all tried to hear what the older people were saying.<p>

Whatever it was, it made Logan, Storm and Jean seem to be very upset and almost sickened. What could it have been?

Lauren would try to walk over to them, but they would stop talking when they noticed her. She wasn't happy about that. Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch shared a look, and I walked towards them.

"So. . ." I drew the word out to get their attention. "You know something?"

They were quiet for that moment, and Quicksilver looked at his twin sister. She gave him a small shrug.

"Stryker kidnapped Charles Xavier earlier this year," he told me. "And, he has plans to make his own Cerebro. And, we all know he doesn't like Mutants."

I shuddered. That couldn't be good. Damn it, Stryker!

"That's what we thought, too," the Scarlet Witch told me quietly.

The adults were talking to Kurt, and Jean had that look of concentration again as she began to read his mind.

"So, Stryker used him in that attack," I said out loud, keeping my voice steady as I talked.

"I don't know how," Quicksilver told me. "That he did."

* * *

><p>We made camp that night, and it was the adults who would deal with Stryker, save the kids, and save the professor and Cyclops. All on their own. The five of them would have help from Magneto's two children, and that was it. They weren't going to ask for our help, not wanting us to get involved with something dangerous.<p>

Even though we had a common goal, a common enemy, we were still pretty divided. You had the X-Men and their students, just Kurt, Magneto and that part of his Brotherhood, and me and Lauren. The different groups had no reason to trust each other. John was still pretty angry and playing with his lighter, and he drew the attention of Magneto. Kitty and Peter were off to the side, quietly speaking with each other. Kurt was on his own, praying quietly to himself in German and fingers running along his simple rosary.

When he finished praying, he looked up at me and Lauren, unsure for a moment. I sat next to him.

"Thank you for saving my life," I quietly told him, speaking in the German that I knew.

Modern German speakers had issues understanding Low German nowadays. It was like a completely different language to them. The people in my area of Iowa knew that language and could speak it very fluently, and many of us still spoke that German at home as much as they could. My dad jokingly called it Ghetto German. Oddly enough, Kurt could understand me perfectly.

"You're welcome," he responded in the same language. His grip tightened around his rosary for a moment. "I know you think this is strange, but this gives me peace of mind at what I have done."

"I don't think it's strange," I told him truthfully. Of all the people he was talking to, he found a couple people who would actually understand him better than most. "It seems pretty right."

He unclasped his hands, thinking. "Most people would not think I would have the faith that I have. Especially with the way I look. They hate me and are afraid of me, but. . .I pity them."

I gave him a look, and it was hard not to respect the guy. Here was someone who had the worst of mutation. Me and Lauren looked normal, so you wouldn't even know we were Mutants if we didn't tell you. Kurt, for the lack of a better term, looked almost demonic. He had blue skin and a demonic tale and angelic symbols all over his skin. Instead of being bitter and hating back, he was sympathetic.

Lauren quickly changed the subject, commenting on how those symbols were pretty but had to be very painful.

"I carve these into my skin for each of my sins," Kurt explained. "So, I have quite a few."

Her eyes flashed when he said that. "Well. . .they are pretty."

Magneto was talking to John, and I didn't need to guess on what he was telling him. He had a silvertongue and an eye for new members for his Brotherhood, and John ate up his every word which was probably not a good thing. The looks that Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch were giving their father that showed a small sense of unease and a growing dislike. It was pretty clear that they didn't have the same opinions as their father anymore. There might have been hope for those two yet.

"There's something strange about the one called Jean," the Scarlet Witch quietly told us when she walked over to us, not looking at her father. "An almost god-like power locked away within her. . ." She became uneasy. "That might be more than she can control."

Jean walked by to look at the jet after the makeshift repairs, and that bird of fire flashed in her eyes. I actually felt cold. Something about it felt wrong and unsettling. A portent of something to come.


	27. Chapter 26

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>"So, you're going into a situation you don't know how it would end," I remarked when we, "the kids," were told that we had to stay on the jet. "With as few people as possible."<p>

"We don't want you to get hurt," Jean told me.

"At least let us help look for the kids," I was saying.

"You'll need more people to do that," Lauren agreed with me.

Jean was about to disagree, but it was Storm who realized the merit of that kind of plan. thank God for people like Storm.

"It will just be you and Lauren," she told me. "You are older."

I don't think Kitty and Peter really cared too much about that. They could actually understand that a little, but it was John who was the most pissed off about that decision. If looks could kill, John would've been able to kill me right there. Magneto's words got to him, and there was nothing that could be said or done to change that.

Logan wanted to deal with Stryker on his own, revenge being the prime motivator, but he had no idea how to work the controls for us to get into the base-dam. Mystique turned into Logan to trick Stryker long enough for her to get to the controls, but he knew that we were there. We had a short period of time to get to the kids or find the professor before he did whatever he was planning to do.

Me and Lauren were with Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch for a short period of time before even the four of us had to split up, and we didn't really trust each other. We were keeping an eye on each other. Lauren grabbed Quicksilver's arm and pulled him after her. If he would run away or something like that, she would be able to freeze him. She probably would have enjoyed doing that, anyway.

The Scarlet Witch seemed to have been concentrating as she held out one hand in front of her.

"That way," she pointed.

Before we could move, we collapsed to the ground, clutching our heads. That type of pain is pretty hard to describe. It's like the world's worst migraine mixed with the feeling that the brain was melting. The worst moments of your life would replay over and over, and you just wanted to die. There was a voice that meant no harm was causing all of that pain.

The Scarlet Witch looked green, and I was starting to get overheated. I could barely keep my strength up to hold my head. My arms just fell limply to my sides, and I started to curl up into a ball. I needed to throw up and just roll over and never wake up again.

Stryker's youngest son, the one whom he didn't consider to be the disgrace, and a few armed men surrounded the two of us. Even through my intense pain, I could see there was a mixture of expressions across their faces. Strykers son was disgusted at us and little pleased at our intense pain, and some of his men had the same expression. There was some who only looked horrified, and there was some pity.

That intense suddenly disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and I slowly began to cool down. Everything was still pretty dark. A migraine was starting to form, and I felt very exhausted and weak. My hands were shaking, and I could taste blood from biting my bottom lip so hard to make it bleed. The lights overhead were far too bright, cutting through my head.

The armed men began to hold their heads when they fell to the ground. It's unsettling to see that kind of pain that I experienced written across their faces. I felt bad, even if they would have killed us, but no one should've had to deal with that sort of pain.

"Your father found the professor, I take it," I commented to the Scarlet Witch.

Her expression became grim. It was like she was starting to realize her father would stop at nothing to see his vision of the superior Mutant race come to fruition. That sort of thing was very difficult to stomach, I guess.

"Yes," she said, and she shook her head.

We left them, and I felt a little wrench about it. There was nothing I could do to help them, but it still sucked I just left them there. The Scarlet Witch also looked at them, and her hands began to twitch.

"Should we. . .?" She asked, unsure, but she seemed like she had wanted to help them.

"Can you?" I asked her.

"Yes. . ." She told me.

She raised her hand, and they were surround by a red light that glowed strongly before dimming away. They stopped writhing in pain, but they were unconscious. The pain had melted away from their faces.

"When the professor stops using Cerebro," she told me as we started to walk down the hallway. "They would wake up."

I looked through the small windows on the doors, looking for any kind of life within them, and the Scarlet Witch looked down the other side of the hallway. I didn't worry about turning my back on her for some reason. She earned my trust.

"What made you change your opinions about your father?" I finally asked her after awhile.

She shrugged. "Pietro and I never held the same beliefs as our father. . .or at least they weren't as extreme, but. . ."

"He's your father," I finished for her. I could agree with her. I understood.

"Yes," she told me. "But, it was too late for my brother and I."

I looked at her, narrowing my eyes as I started to think. Was she even serious? She was still pretty grim, and her back was still pretty straight. Yeah. . .she was pretty serious.

"It's not too late," I told her. "Never when you want to do better."

"Is that Becca?" The voice of Rachel Summers asked from below our feet.

I knelt to the ground, and I looked through the grating to see the kids who were taken by Stryker. They looked pretty exhausted and very afraid, but they were pretty hopeful.

"Yeah. . ." I called down to them. I was only vaguely aware of Lauren and Quicksilver appearing. "Hey guys."

I could see that Rachel was being watched over protectively by her older brother, Nate, and the older kids were keeping a protective eye on the younger kids.

"You have no idea how to get us out, do you?" Nate asked. Both he and his sister were telepaths like their mother.

"Be nice," I replied as I studied the grating.

"You might want to hurry up," Quicksilver snapped.

I gripped the grating, and the metal became hotter and hotter before they metal began to bend and warp. After several moments, I was able to pull the warped metal away to create a large hole for them.

The dam around us began to shake.


	28. Chapter 27

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>We helped the kids out of the little prison. They were still in the pajamas that they had been wearing the night they were taken from their school, and we quickly led them through the maze that was that dam-base. We found the others as we were trying to leave the base.<p>

A limping Jean and her tired-looking husband, Scott (Cyclops), were doing their best to support Professor Xavier as they were trying to leave the base, and Storm and Kurt had the lobotomized Jason Stryker whose hardened stare was both horrifying and very unsettling. Logan appeared out of nowhere, covered in blood and both angered and at peace with what had happened and probably what he had learned in dealing with the figure who had so changed and affected his life for so long.

The older kids helped carry or support the younger ones as we left the base, following Logan to where he had claimed to be a large enough helicopter to take them back to the jet and to the school.

Nothing.

"It was right here!" He yelled, upset with with what had happened and what was about to happen.

An injured and chained Stryker, the son of the man my grandparents hated so much when he struck that deal with Soviet Russia back in the sixties and the father of the mindless Jason and of the one me and Scarlet Witch had saved despite his hatred about us, gave us a bitter and defeated laughter. That dark chuckle was connected to a man who had already accepted his death. There was something in his eyes, though. It was like he realized that one plan didn't really work, but another started to slowly be realized.

"They'll come out of the shadows," he told us. "And, there's nothing you can do to stop that from even happening."

Stryker deliberately stopped explaining that, and by the small smile that he had started to wear, it was clear that he was amused by what could happen.

That was only meant for me, and what he had told Logan was horrible, hinting at what he had done to him. Logan showed his real strength of character, and he only turned his back on him and walked away. Never once looking back at him.

Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch were quietly talking with each other in the language that they had spoken when they had been growing up with Gypsies, and they weren't happy. Apparently, Magneto took Mystique and John with him and left his children behind him. He was so focused on his mission that he just left his children behind. What a great father.

The jet landed hard on the ground in front of us, and when it opened, we quickly climbed into it. Kitty was holding the controls to the jet, skin pale, arms shaking, and eyes tightly closed. The sound of thundering and rushing water filled the air, so we really needed to leave. I was at Kitty's side, quietly trying to calm her down, so I could sit in the seat and help pilot the jet.

Jean watched the water as it rushed through the countryside, stopping herself from moving onto the jet.

"Jean!" Scott was yelling, but he stopped moving the moment she waved one of her hands.

Nate pulled him onto the jet, somehow knowing what his mother was going to do and realizing there was nothing that could be done to stop her. The jet was closed up, and me and Storm began the work to start the jet and quickly get out of there. I could clearly see what Jean was doing.

Without even flinching when she saw the roaring water, she raised one of her hands. The water stopped moving towards us, and it soared high overhead of her as the pressure began to build up. She looked back at us, and there was that strange, fiery birdlike aura surrounded her again.

Her expression was that of being at peace at what she was about to do. Scott wore a look of complete horror, and Nate and Rachel were just as horrified. Rachel was almost crying as her older brother held her.

The jet was ready to fly, and Jean only watched on as the jet began to hover. That aura only strengthened for a short moment before she lowered her arm and closed her eyes, and the water rushed around her.

"Jean!" Scott yelled, his voice shook with his intense sorrow.

Jean was no more. She sacrificed to save us all.

* * *

><p>It was the night when Obama was giving one of his final speeches on national television to address the Mutant Problem. He looked both serious and horrible about what he was doing, but he felt he was doing the right thing after the attack on him a year before and everything that was happening all across the country after New York.<p>

There was a flash of lightning and a loud crash of thunder, and everyone around him stopped moving. He stopped talking and looked around him with surprise, and the lightning flashed again as we appeared. To his credit, he kept his cool.

"Do not be alarmed," Charles Xavier told him with his calming and soft-spoken voice. "We are Mutants."

Obama sat back in his chair. "Why are you here."

"We're here to clear up something big," I told him, earning some weird looks from the people around me, but I didn't care about that. I was in my element, so the words were just flowing right out of me. I set the file that Mystique had compiled (among other things) about what he had done to coerce the president to his line of thinking.

Obama looked through it, becoming more grim, and he actually looked guilty for giving those orders to Stryker, what he had just allowed to happen.

"How did you get this?" He asked. He believed what we had given to him.

"A girl who can walk through walls," Xavier replied. "Among other things."

Kurt crapped up a little when he said that as if remembering something that he and Kitty had done at the school with their strange powers.

"There are people out there that think we are on the verge of war," Xavier told him. "There have been casualties, but now it is your move."

"And," Logan said. "We'll be watching."

I left one typed noted for him to read, knowing I wasn't going to ruin the moment with my own words.

* * *

><p>"Even though people hate and fear us, we still protect them from whatever the world would would throw at them. No matter what would happen, we'll be there. Just like there are good and bad people in the world, there are good and bad Mutants."<p>

The lightning flashed again, and we were gone.

Obama sat back in his chair, and he was pretty thoughtful. Everyone was moving again, and it seemed like he had suddenly stopped talking in the middle of his speech, staring at the cameras and his teleprompters.

"Mr. President?" One of the reporters asked in surprise and expectation.

That was when Obama took my words from my little note, and actually supported Mutant Rights.

"They are like us," he ended up saying. "They have families. They try to live normal lives. The only thing that separates us from them is an accident of birth. . ."


	29. Chapter 28

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I was drinking some Mountain Dew and playing with the flash drive as I waited for the hacktivist. She quickly sat across from me, and I slid the flash drive towards her before she hid it in her clothes.<p>

"Can you tell me what this is about?" She asked me.

"More about Stryker," I told her. "Don't think Barry's going to let that information out, and there's some information about the Mutant Registration Act and what's really going on about it."

"What do you mean?" She asked me.

"It's all there," I told her. "Just look through it. You might be surprised." I paused and looked at her, realizing something important and what could be useful about her. "You never know what would end up being useful for you in the future." That was when I shrugged at her, not really saying anything more to her.

"That doesn't even make sense," she told me.

"It will," I said, really enjoying how cryptic I was sounding.

She shook her head in amusement before disappearing, and I pulled out my phone to talk to my grandma. There were some things she needed to know.

It wouldn't be long before some things were ended, like supposed growing support of the national passing of the Mutant Registration act. At least part of their plans could be ended, but my eventual conversation with my grandma made me realize that it wasn't possible. They were far too powerful and were in the right positions of power. There was nothing that could be done to stop them.

"Everything she needs is on it," I told my grandma as I walked. I spoke in Low German, knowing that no one would understand me. I walked back to my dorm room. "I guess it's a waiting game now."

"Good," my grandma told me. "She's been on their radar for years, and recently she's caught their interest."

The door to my dorm room was unlocked, so my roommate was probably doing whatever in our room. I had to be very careful about what I was going to say next to my grandma.

"What are you going to do next?" I asked her, opening the door and being in my own world.

"She has that spark," she told me. "And, there are a few people who would be able to see that. I have people looking into one right now."

We ended the conversation, and I was vaguely aware of someone else, not my roommate, was in the room. I looked at the other person, feeling surprise at seeing him. My heart pounded and breathing began to pick up fast.

"Oh. . .hey. . ." I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet. "Steve. . ."

He wore a ghost of a smile, being a little amused. "Hey." He paused, quirking up an eyebrow at me. "Shouldn't you be a little bit more observant?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

I tossed my keys and phone on my desk and began to take my notebooks, textbooks, and laptop out of my bag. My homework was placed on top of my closed laptop to know that I needed to do my homework before class. Steve watched me, still standing with his hands behind his back.

"You can sit on my roommate's chair," I told him. "I guess. I don't think that she would mind."

He pulled the chair out from her desk, and I pulled mine to sit across from him and faced him.

"So. . ." I drew the word out. "What brings you here?"

"A lot," he told me. "I know you've been busy."

For a moment, I thought he was talking about what me and my grandma had been working on for awhile, but I realized he was probably talking about my climbing into a jet in the middle of campus, and that it had to do with the president's sudden change of his speech on national television. That was a relief. At that point, the less people who knew, the better. I could talk about that.

"Yeah," I told him, not wanting to look into his eyes. Not seeing him for awhile made me lapse into old habits. It was very difficult to look him straight in the eyes.

That was harder for me than most people, and he could tell that. He listened as I talked to him about most of what had happened. A lot of what I had told him made sense of what he had noticed. The massive event where people around the world randomly collapsed to the ground with intense pain for a period of time, and then there was Alkali Lake.

For a moment, Steve reached out to me, wearing a look of concern on his face. He gently pulled me to him, not really saying anything to me for a moment. Apparently, what I had told him bothered him, or he thought I needed to be comforted by him. I relaxed into him for a moment, closing my eyes, before realizing what was going on, and I pulled away from him.

He quickly cleared his throat. "You have been busy."

I shrugged, wanting to talk about something completely different, and we did. It was only random topics that jumped around and back, and the longer we talked, the easier I could talk to him and look him in the eyes. I was easily laughing with him again. Something I said went completely over his head, and my eyes widened as I became more serious.

"You haven't been catching up on stuff?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "Too busy."

I wasn't going to accept that. "You had time to fly across the country to see me after New York almost every couple of weeks, but you don't have the time to check some things out?"

Steve was going to say something to that, but he stopped himself as if he realized that something about it would cross some kind of boundary between us.

"Well," I quickly said, saving him from saying anything like that. Whatever that was. "that doesn't matter. I'll help you. Since you always see me, I could help you. In fact. . .I insist."

"You don't have to. . ." He was saying.

"I don't have to," I quickly replied without even thinking. "I want to."

He gave me a look, and our eyes locked for that moment. It was just the two of us. There was something different about that one moment from all of the others that we had shared. I wasn't really sure why at the time, or I wasn't going to admit to it. Especially not at that time.

My stomach was doing all kinds of flips then, and my cheeks became warmer. I quickly looked away, not really wanting to deal with that a whole lot right then.


	30. Chapter 29

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>My first year of college went by quickly. I was studying and writing papers like crazy with only one goal in mind: I was going to become some kind of politician (ignoring all of the comments I used to make about that sort of thing and my so-called musical talent) to bring about Mutant Rights in a peaceful that Stryker had tried to do made me open my eyes. The only way to end actions like that was not through fighting back but by working to change the system that created them.<p>

My roommate would snicker whenever I talked about that sort of dream. She would always point out my crippling fear of speaking in front of large groups of people. That was one of the reasons why we couldn't really get along, but they were her own opinions. She would say whatever she wanted to, and she has a right to her own opinions, even when I didn't like them.

Obama lost to the guy, Matthew Ellis, and practically everyone on campus flipped out. I didn't really like him at first, and there was something that he did that angered all of the Mutants. The Mutants Registration Act was being heavily discussed and would potentially be passed. He might have thought he was doing the right thing, but there would be people who would abuse the system to wipe out the freaks of the world. Then there were a much smaller group of people who would take advantage of the situation. He thought that Mutants with dangerous powers needed to register as a way to keep the peace.

My grandma and I talked a lot about the strange law that had recently been passed, especially when the main proponent for the bill was a senator named Stern. She feared that what she had suspected for many years was going to come true.

The chess pieces were set into place. It became a waiting game for the other side to make the first move.

Every few weeks, I would spend time with Steve. We watched some movies together, and I always looked forward to those few meetings with him. At least with him, I didn't have to think or worry about what was happening in the present or the possible future.

He never said anything about his work with S.H.I.E.L.D., but I could tell that he was a little conflicted about that sort of work. Despite that, there was a small part that had him stay, that helped him look past the little difficult things that organization had been doing.

I told Steve about my plans for the future, and he did what no one else seemed to have done. He didn't tell me that it wasn't possible, or that I would fail epically at it and waste my life and talents. No. He believed in me, and he thought it was possible. Steve could see what I'm truly capable of, not what everyone else assumed.

That was enough for me.

* * *

><p>Steve finally met with Peggy and spoke with her for a short period of time. After he had met with her, he was more silent and withdrawn than ever before.<p>

"You okay, Steve?" I asked him.

He looked at me, trying to find the words to really say what's on his mind, but he did give me a small shake of his head. I gave him a small nod, guessing what could've been that bad.

I took a hold of his hands in between mine, and I looked into his eyes. "She's a good woman, and she lived a long and good life." Then, I realized what I had said and grimaced for him. "Sorry. . .I'm. . .I'm not good at this sort of thing."

He gave me another small nod, and as the time seemed to pass, he actually seemed to be a little more amused. Whatever it was that had bothered him was long gone, or at least he could hide it much better at that point. We talked about other things before we ended up speaking about Peggy and everything she had done since he crashed that plane up North. He was proud of everything that she had done, and of her children, but there was some regret there. That much was obvious, even to me, but I said nothing, only held his hands in between mine.

"She recruited my grandma to S.H.I.E.L.D. after she graduated college," I told him, wanting to change the subject for him. "She made my grandma the agent she was. You never see people like her anymore. . ."

My voice sort of died away at that, not really sure if that's the twisting of the knife in a painful wound. Steve gave me a look, both curious and something else, and he freed one of his hands to brush my messy blond hair out of my face. I quirked up an eyebrow at him, and he had quickly lowered his hand, probably feeling like he had crossed some kind of line or something like that. I wasn't sure what to think about that, so I chose not to think about it, especially then.

My phone went off, and I quickly stood up to grab it from my desk to answer it. It was my mom, a strange time for her to call even though we ever talk. My nature would never allow that to happen.

"Yeah?" I said.

"It's about your great-grandpa," she told me. Her voice was very quiet, and there was that part of me that knew what she was going to say next. It was only a matter of time. "He past away earlier today." She said some other things, but I couldn't really register everything that she was saying to me.

He was alert to the end, praying before he had died. His last words were reuniting with his Spitfire, God willing.

With shaking hands, I had placed my phone back on my desk. Steve was scrutinizing my actions with a concerned eye, and he was beside me, hands gently gripping my arms.

"My great-grandpa passed away earlier today," I said, quietly and haltingly, and my voice shook a little. Back at home, the families were closer than most. Our blood ties were strengthened through hardship and teaching each other, and we would stand by each other's side through thick and thin. Loyal to each other, no matter what.

Steve didn't say anything, but he pulled me to him and lightly hugged me before I closed my eyes as the tears began to roll down my cheeks.


	31. Chapter 30

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>My dad picked me up from the airport, and he hugged me before I climbed into the van. We didn't really talk much save for the small amount about great-grandpa's funeral. When we were at home, I ditched all of my stuff, being that close to spring break that mine was starting a little earlier than most people's, and I quickly changed into a suit for his visitation and pulled my blond hair into a simple ponytail.<p>

It was going to be a long night.

My dad and I walked into the funeral home where the rest of the family had already met. My uncle Lucas was quietly talking to my grandparents off to the side, but there was something about them that made me want to listen closely to what they were telling me.

". . .She actually called for the first time in twelve years," he told them. "There was a fire, and she blamed me. . ."

Then he said something about registration, and my grandpa looked mad, and my grandma looked furious. Whatever that meant.

My younger cousins were running around, playing some kind of game, and my other aunt was holding the youngest cousin. The cousins who had been running around stopped when they saw me, and the older two grabbed my hands to pull me after them for me to join their little game. They were quickly talking about anything and everything, and sometimes I could understand them.

As I was playing with Adam (one of the cousins), Steve arrived with Natasha Romanoff. He knew my great-grandpa from their time with the Invaders during the Second World War. Adam broke from my hold and ran in front of them as he chased Jaden (the older girl cousin). He almost tripped Steve, forcing him to brace himself against the wall, so he wouldn't walk on the boy. Natasha wore a small smile when he watched that happen.

"Sorry about that," I told him. "Yeah. . ."

She gave me a hug, saying something quietly to me, and she knew that my family was pretty close, that much was obvious. Natasha stayed off to the side when she saw Clint, staying out of the way while she was there. She knew no one else there.

When they saw Steve, the rest of the family grew respectfully quiet. Anyone born in the family grew up hearing stories about him, and even though they knew he was still alive, still around, it was hard to really process that. He spoke with each of them, crisply saying his sympathies to each of them.

My little brother was trying to keep himself from crying in front of everyone, and I quickly wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Normally, he would've pulled away from me, but he accepted it at that moment. I whispered something to him, and Bobby quietly nodded and closed his eyes as he took several deep breaths to calm himself down. When I looked up, there was Steve talking to my grandma, but sometimes, his eyes would look over to me.

Steve was there to speak with me, and I couldn't really look into his eyes when we were quietly talking with each other. When I did look up at him, he had raised an eyebrow at me, and I thought I kept my emotions in check. He was one of the few people who could see through any shield I would put up.

I pressed my lips together, not really sure what I wanted to say to him or even what I could say to him. He shook hands with everyone else in the family, but he gave me a light hug. I froze a little bit when that happened, not really sure what to do. When he pulled away from me, he was going to say something, but I gave a small shake of my head.

"He's with great-grandma, now," I told him, and my voice shook a little. I quickly coughed to clear my throat like nothing had happened.

Steve was standing with Natasha, and she was quietly explaining the rest of the family and everyone else who was starting to appear.

Since he was considered to be one of the greatest among the Mutants, there were Mutants who came from across the country, even though they were not going to say that out loud and paid their respects. His actions during the forties and fifties made Iowa into the unspoken sanctuary for Mutants, and there were people who called him an icon.

Magneto made his appearance with only Mystique who knew enough not to walk around with only her blue skin. A type of respect, I guess. He stood beside great-grandpa's coffin, head bowed slightly and hands clasped in front of him in some kind of prayer. Natasha had a hand on her hip, probably resting on her gun when she saw him, but she had to lower her hand when my grandma frowned at her. It was a non-militarized zone at that point in time, no matter who showed up for the visitation.

Apparently, back during the time of the Invaders, my great-grandparents liberated a lot of concentration camps that were both Nazi runned or controlled by HYDRA. Magneto was one of the Mutants that HYDRA had been experimenting on to weaponize his powers, and when they found those poor people, they taught them how to control their powers. The rest of the family was not even sure if they regretting ever teaching Magneto how to control his powers .

He went through the whole family, even the much younger great-grandchildren (being the charismatic man that he was), saying his sympathies to all of us. Before he left the funeral home, he looked down at me.

"What happened to them?" He asked me, and he was actually showing the concern of a father.

"They told me that they were going to find you," I told him just as quietly. "You saying they didn't?"

He became grimmer. "I'm not surprised about that. It's the lack of communication which concerns me more."

I promised him that I would look into that, and there was a nagging feeling that started to bother me. That was not the right moment to worry about it, but I made a mental note of it.

Charles Xavier and the few adults who could make it appeared. Scott and my dad were talking, probably for the first time in almost fifteen years. They could easily talk with each other, an old friendship, but they were pretty distant and cold, the after affects of some kind of disagreement that was still happening even fifteen years later.

"Why do I have to join them, now?" Scott's son, Nate, remarked.

I narrowed my eyes. "Not out loud. . .anyway. . ." Steve gave us a curious look, and I grabbed Nate's arm to pull him after me. "Yeah. Now's the best time to earn their trust."

I made sure to cover my mouth with my hand as we talked.

"Yeah," Nate replied. "Gain their trust."

He rolled his eyes, but he could trust me and my judgement. Steve was looking at the two of us, wearing a mysterious expression like he was trying to hide something.

Alexander Pierce was one of the last people to appear. He was an affable kind of guy, and he would have been the one to attend the visitation of the father-in-law of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He was the type of person that everyone could get along with, and I heard people make comments that they wouldn't have minded having him as president. Pierce actually turned down receiving the Nobel Peace Prize because he was still doing the work and would always do the work.

The whole family became emotionless and polite, almost icy as we each spoke with him. Grandma told us her reasons why we should never trust that man, and we believed him. For several minutes, he was talking to my grandparents, probably not even aware of the icy politeness that was "Iowa Nice" that was directed right at him, and he spoke loud enough for me to hear.

"You must be proud of your daughter being an intern for Dr. McCoy this coming school year," he was telling my parents. "I'm sure she would do fine."

My grandma's eyes flashed, but she kept her voice under control before she was going to say anything. It was his way of being polite and believing he somehow was involved with that or something like that.

"Yes." She was finally able to say after a while. "We are. Someone needs to change the world for the better."

She stressed certain words to get him to say anything that he wouldn't have normally said out loud.

"You wouldn't need to worry about that," he said quietly and probably not even realizing that he even said it.

My grandma's grip tightened around her cane as she sat back down, and she squinted her eyes in thought, seeing what other meaning that could be within his words.

The last person to arrive was a tall man wearing a long, cowled robe, and the hood covered his face in shadow. He pulled back his hood to show a man with pointed ears and dark hair slicked back, and he looked around at most of the people with a royal and arrogant manner, save for when he noticed Steve. As the new arrival walked over to the coffin, Steve was quickly at my side while Natasha made herself even more scarce with Clint.

"What are you doing?" I asked Steve, but he only shook his head, not really wanting to explain that.

The new comer was Namor, one of the Invaders, and great-grandpa was one of the few people who had earned his respect. He had a little of a reputation of trying to steal any woman, I guess. My great-grandma actually set him on fire when he tried that with her.

Namor acted like an old family friend when he spoke to all of us. He quirked up an eyebrow when he looked between me and Steve, never really saying anything, though. I had no idea what that was about. steve at my side, nothing really should mean anything about that.


	32. Chapter 31

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>The day of the funeral was very cold, probably the coldest of the week, but there was some weak sunlight that touched the earth. My brothers struggled to tie their ties, actually tangling their hands into the fabric. It was pretty funny to watch.<p>

The five of us came to the church, arriving at the same time as the rest of the family. Everyone was pretty grim and quiet except for all of the younger great-grandchildren who were trying to run around the front of the church. After most of the family arrived, we were taken to the small chapel for a short little family service. My aun Miya had to corral a two year old and a six month old, so I grabbed the six month old, Lily, to help her out. And, also because I want to hold her.

Different Mutants from all over the country started to arrive. They formed the honor guard for my great-grandpa. He was one of the few Mutants who inspired later generations. A lot of them were in the honor for my great-grandma a few years before, and the two surviving Invaders would head the honor guard. Steve and Namor.

The small service before the big service started with the pastor saying a small prayer. Lily took my bulletin and started to play with it when I wouldn't allow her to play with my shirt collar. She seemed to be having fun despite that, though, so we didn't really care. Her older brother, Adam, was playing with his chair, trying to talk to Aunt Miya, but she would always make sure he would be quiet. Adam would have none of it.

He started to sing "Jingle Bells" as loudly as he could during the prayer, and the pastor stopped talking to allow the boy to finish the song. Everyone started to laugh a little because we knew that great-grandpa would have joined him in singing that song. Lily decided she was going to try to choke Billy by pulling on his collar.

The funeral started, and there are parts I couldn't really remember it fully. One of the great-uncles read the poem that he had written about our great-grandfather to the whole congregation, and another spoke about what he had meant to him as a father. Magneto spoke about meeting my great-grandparents far back in World War II when they broke into the camp to help him. There would be some people who would have thought that shouldn't have happened, and they should have been blamed for those horribly obvious outcomes, but the way he told of that meeting, he drove home the fact that they helped him and the other Mutants in the camp how to control their powers, how they treated them all with dignity and respect.

"It's hard not to see how their philosophy had grown and spread to their children and others," he said. "It's their way to not only make our lives better but the whole world."

Professor Xavier did say something as well. He remarked that he had some disagreements with them over opening a separate school for Mutants and practically staying closed off from the rest of the world, but he did admit that many times, he wondered of what my great-grandfather was doing was far better. They were working towards the same goal through different means, and it was hard not show some respect for what he was working to do. Inspiration wasn't said, but it was implied.

Namor was the last one to speak about my great-grandfather. Like when he spoke about my great-grandma, he said that there were few people who earned his respect. He stressed the word few, and he made sure that we knew he could control water. By that elemental nature along, they should never have gotten along, but despite everything, great-grandpa worked to give him the benefit of the doubt. Read: giving him a chance to prove that there was good in him.

"There are few people who even bother to do that," he finished.

Great-grandpa's casket was led out of the church by the eleven grandchildren. On each side of them, there was the honor guard that consisted of Steve and Namor and many Mutants who were directly inspired by my great-grandpa.

Some called that the passing of an age. He represented something older and greater from a time long before that day. Three whole generations of children grew up learning about the heroics of the Human Torch, and it was the beginning of a period of time when we were realizing that though legends can suddenly appear, they could still die.

After the graveside services, I had an arm around Bobby's shoulders, and we just stood there, not really saying anything. It was the two of us silently praying and coming to terms with what was going on. When I looked up, I saw Steve watching our interaction, and he was wearing some kind of unreadable expression.

One friend, Maggie, found me at the church. Her powers were like Danielle's since they were second cousins. She hugged me.

"I'm sorry," she told me.

"Thanks," I said, quietly. I had problems about people showing too much emotion around me and giving me too much attention.

She knew enough to change the subject then, and we quickly talked about how our classes were going. Maggie stayed in Iowa for school and played softball at the local college. she loved to hear the stories and comments I made about the roommate who didn't particularly like me.

"Yeah," I ended it. "I'm rooming with Lauren next year."

"Only in D.C.," she told me. "Lucky."

"It's going to be epic," I told her. "Epic."

Maggie snorted at that. "You should do your work, too."

"I'll do my work too," I told her.

Steve was talking with Clint, Natasha having left sometime the night before after the visitation., but there would be times when he would look over at me. Maggie noticed that, and she gave me a knowing smile.

"What?" I asked her, a little confused at her.

"You and him," she told me before speaking with her eyes to get me to understand what she was telling me.

"What about it?" I asked her.

Maggie looked at me and shook her head. "You can be. . .wow."

I gave her a confused look, still not understanding her. "What?"

She sighed like she would do when I would get in one of those confused moments. That happened a lot, so she had the patience of a saint.

"You like Captain America," she finally told me. At least she was using a quiet tone of voice. Unlike some of my other friends.

I snorted before I gave her a small laugh at that thought. "No. I don't."

She gave me a "what the hell are you talking about" look before she shook her head. "Yeah. You do." Maggie gave me a closed look. "Sorry. . .Steve. You like Steve."

I began to stammer my through an argument to refute what she had figure out. My cheeks became very warm, though, betraying me and proving her right.

"You do!" She said. "I can't say that I blame you. . ." She became quiet again, allowing me to think about it for a moment. "I'll keep it quiet for you."

That allowed me to relax, but I was still a little uncomfortable. Her slight comment made me realize something big. Not only did I have a crush, or maybe a little bit more, on a team member, but he was the leader (no matter what Tony would say otherwise) and took the role of my mentor. It could be very problematic and very awkward, not to mention dangerous. Still, I didn't care. I had to be careful, going back to how I would always act around someone I would like. I would act like nothing was any different between me and that other person, forcing myself to ignore the growing crush.

I looked back at Steve, and I gave him a small, shy smile. that's going to happen a lot. Steve gave me a small one in return.

Then I notice my grandma talking quietly with Maria Hill, probably giving her suggestions on who needed to be observed on their next missions. She made sure that one agent would take priority. Grant Ward.

Certain chess moves were happening.


	33. Chapter 32

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I never really watched the news when I was at school because I only listened to my iPod and was in my own world. When I was home during spring break, I actually watched the news with my dad when he would come home from work. there were two pretty big things that I missed.<p>

One: Strange occurrences happening around Alkali Lake.

Two: four people went to space and experienced something strange, and when they came back, they had strange powers.

So, what was being talked about before my history class the Friday before actually started to make sense.

There was a night when we were kind of watching it when those four came on the news again. they used their powers to save some large number of people in New York City, and they chose the names that they would forever be known by. We watched while trying to keep our anger under control when the youngest of the four, a Johnny Storm, chose the name of the Human Torch.

The next day, grandpa called us to say that there were two visitors at their house, and we needed to speak to them pretty soon. Dad and I walked into my grandparent's house, and two of those four people were in the kitchen, having to eat some bars my grandma made and had strongly suggested that they eat.

The older of the two was named Reed Richards, and he could end up stretching himself like he was made of elastic. He was one of the greatest scientists in the world, being able to see the world from a far more different way than most people in the whole world. Then there was that Johnny Storm. He was a little older than me and way more athletic than me, but there was something about him that could make one believe he wanted to help people. He was pretty earnest and genuine about that.

Richards was too busy talking with my dad and grandparents, leaving me and Johnny to awkwardly try to figure out what we could even talk about.

"So. . ." I drew the word out. "What happened?"

"You don't know?" He asked.

"I don't watch much T.V.," I admitted. "So what happened?"

"There were these cosmic rays that Reed wanted to study," he explained. "Or something like that. With Reed you never really know what's happening. All I know we were in a rocket in space." He paused a moment, wearing a look of pure wonder on his face. "Which is. . .pretty cool. . ."

"You were in space. . .?" I realized he need to get back on topic.

"Right. . ." He said when he realized the same thing. "We were somehow exposed to those cosmic rays."

"When was this?" I asked, a little suspicious of the cause.

"Last fall," he quickly answered. "We didn't get to see what happened in New York as it was happening."

"Did he ever figure out why that happened?" I asked, knowing that coincidences don't really exist.

"I think he made a comment that they were acting too. . not right," he said. "The rest is history."

"Huh. . ." I said. Loki's actions had far reaching consequences.

I scrawled that thought down. The Tesseract portal-thing had affected those cosmic rays. . .somehow.

"Why did you choose the name Human Torch?" I asked him, and I looked directly at him to see either his truth or his lies.

"You know the stories about that guy," he told me. By that point, everyone had heard about those stories. They were the perfect stories to tell your children when they were growing up.

"Yeah. And?" I replied.

"You know why I would choose that name," he said. "Maybe by taking his name, I could be like him."

"Meaning?" I asked him. He was treading on very thin ice, and I really had to control my temper.

He shrugged. "Make me better."

I could tell that he was telling me the full truth. He seemed to be pretty sincere about that. I was pretty pleased about what he had told me.

"Good choice," I said, loud enough for the rest of the family to hear, and he gave me a strange look, not really understanding that.

My grandmother walked into the kitchen, and she was wearing a pleased smile. Apparently, she too liked his reasoning behind choosing great-grandpa's named from his time with the Invaders.

It was that silent agreement to allow him to use that name. That was why they were here. Reed probably knew that Johnny needed our blessing or the family wrath could be horrible if incited.

I lead the scrawled note so that Reed could get it. Scientists love theories, and that was strange enough to pique his interest to solve.

So, I kind of saw the beginning of what would alter be called the Fantastic Four.

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><p>There would always be those strange happenings around Alkali Lake. Rumors and very blurry pictures and videos would be shown on the news or trending on Twitter, but there were people who claimed they were doctored, even after everything that had happened in New York City. People were still having difficulties believing in the strange and surreal around the world.<p>

Those images always showed a woman covered in a flame, an almost bird-like flame. Objects would float around her, defying all laws of physics just because. No one was sure what that could mean, but I shuddered. There was something about it that I could remember about that strange apparition.

Jean Grey was covered in that bird-like fire before she died, and the Scarlet Witch, Wanda, had told me a warning about what was happening to her. I was starting to see why anyone would work to call that crazy.

It was still always there, always in the news.

* * *

><p>Billy became secretive towards the end of my spring break. He would come home very late after school or work, not talking about where he had been or he had been with. It made our parents frustrated with him, but that never really seemed to bother him much.<p>

The night before I left to fly back east, I was up late, and when I walked into the kitchen to eat some of the leftover pizza in the fridge, I saw Billy talking to a known member of Magneto's Brotherhood, known only as Daken. He grew up in the streets after Stryker messed with him through the Weapon X program. Meaning: he had a regenerative healing factor and claws that would pop out from his hands. . .metal claws, now. HIs connection to a certain member of the X-Men was possible but unproven.

They stopped talking when they saw me, and I opened the fridge to grab the pizza, looking at them as I started eating.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He asked me, trying to keep calm and collected. It was pretty clear that he was nervous about getting caught doing something wrong.

"Don't you have school tomorrow?" I quickly shot back.

"It's CAPS conferences," he said. "And, mine isn't until the afternoon."

"Right," I said, and I nodded my head in the direction of Daken. "You've been hanging around him a lot."

He tried to talk himself out of what I was insinuating. Billy knew that I knew he was now a part of the Mutant Brotherhood, and Daken only rolled his eyes.

"He joined last fall," he told me. "He was mad over how Mutants have been treated."

I looked directly at my brother. "You waited that long to join?"

"I gave them a chance," he was telling me. "They're taking too long, and they would attack us."

"Self defense," I said, and he nodded. "Alright."

I was going back to my room, and Billy kept me from walking away from them.

"What?" He asked me. "You're not mad?"

"I don't agree with your decision," I told him. "But, you're my brother, and I'll trust that you would always do what's right." He still looked confused, but we both knew he wouldn't be as militant as Daken or even Magneto. "You have your own right to your own opinion. Even if it's completely different from mine."

Daken seemed to be just as surprised as my brother when I said that. There was some respect there from them from that moment on.

"You spend too much time around Captain America," Billy jokingly accused, not wanting to admit that small amount of respect.

I was the one who had to work to keep most of the truth hidden. "You make that sound like a bad thing."

My brother gave me a close look, but he didn't really say anything. It was pretty clear that he could see through that. A lot of people who really knew me would be able to.


	34. Chapter 33

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>The rest of the semester went on as normally as it should. There was still news of the mystery woman, even though there are people who thought it was a fake, and people were freaking out about her and what she could cause or even mean. There came a point when we stopped talking about it, and the woman became a faded memory. We didn't really care. Other things were more important and took most of our attention.<p>

There was this terrorist group called the Ten Rings, and their leader, the Mandarin, would issue these proclamations on T.V. before an attack, and after an attack to claim it as his work. that took most of our focus. We didn't want an attack to happen to us, but it was very difficult for us to even believe that it's even happening.

Finals week was more tense than normal. Any car driving onto campus would be regarded with intense suspicion, so all of those cars owned by students or their parents were heavily checked when they went up to the dorms or by the other buildings on campus.

My roommate, finally, taking a break from her studying, glared at me when I walked into our room. She had the news to make the silence of our room bearable.

"Hey," I told her, ignoring it when I threw my bag on the floor. I was finally done with my finals, so most of my stress was gone.

"Look," she told me, and she pointed to the screen.

Tony Stark was on T.V., nothing new about that, but he was extremely angry. He basically insulted the Mandarin, and he ended it by giving him his Malibu address and a challenge to come after him. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. You don't do that, even I knew that.

"Oh," was all I could really say about that.

"Yeah," she said, and the tone of her voice was very acidic. It was pretty clear that she didn't really approve or like what I do. "Guess what he's after?"

I rolled my eyes. "He don't like heroes?"

She glared at me before ignoring me completely. It had been a pretty icy year being her roommate. She didn't like Mutants (not a big deal for me. She can have her own opinions), and there were times when I could be pretty annoying. At least she didn't go on and on about how I didn't have the right to go to that school like some people (Stryker) would say.

The few hours before my dad showed up to take me home, I was eating in the cafeteria, and everyone was still watching the news. They were fearful and distraught over what had happened. Tony Stark was presumed to be dead after the Ten Rings attack on his home in Malibu. The people who were the most upset were the ones who really looked up to him. He may be the worst that the one percent had to offer, but whatever happened to him in Afghanistan changed him for the better, some would say. Iron Man, though pretty impossible to recreate without truly and fully understanding Stark technology, made it seem like we could all be like him at some point. All we needed was the right tools and the right mind set.

That home in Malibu was blown up and collapsed into the ocean, and there was no sign of him.

Iron Man was dead.

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><p>There was still those strange explosions. Some of the victims had loved ones who were on T.V., wailing over what had happened. They came back from the war with horrible and life changing injuries, and they recently had some experimental treatments that really had helped them, giving them back their previous quality of life. Their lives were cut short just when they could have started living again.<p>

It all had to do with some treatment call Extremis. . .

I was at my grandma's house when that was playing on the news, and she stopped what she was doing and shook her head. She wasn't happy about that.

"There are people out there who will take advantage of your weaknesses," she told me. "They wanted a better life. . .getting back their missing limbs. . .there would be someone who would 'help' them."

That was the worst thing a person could do in her eyes or in the eyes of anyone from my home town. The person who basically weaponized that so-called treatment, Extremis, was heavily cursed in German in my hometown.

There was a knock on the door, and I went to answer it for my grandma. Agent Ward was there, wanting to talk to my grandma. I led him into the house, closing and locking the door behind us.

"I don't work well with others," he was telling my grandma, and it was pretty clear that he knew he would have to work with Nate and whatever she would have him do for S.H.I.E.L.D. with some kind of response team that she suggested to Fury that needed to be created.

"You're the obvious choice. He's the obvious choice," she told him. "And, it would be good for you."

"No," Ward argued. "It's not."

I winced for him. "I wouldn't argue with her."

My grandma crossed her arms. "Working with them will do you a lot of good."

"I'm a specialist. . ." He was trying to say.

"A specialist still needs to be able to work with other people," my grandma lectured him.

"You know why I have problems. . ." He was saying before stopping when he wasn't sure how much I knew.

My grandma made a slight hand gesture to ease that uneasiness. "It would still help you and be good for you."

Like with most people, he had to accept her lecture because there was no way to argue with her because she could talk circles around anyone, and she could make anyone say what she wanted them to say. She gave him several different suggestions on how he was going to proceed with the several coming months. Basically, she was telling to take advantage of any kind of situation as they would unfold around him and to listen to me.

"Nate," I told him. "He'll only go by Cable, and he'll take his mother's maiden name. Take him under your wing and make him join the fold."

He knew what I was talking about.

* * *

><p>When I pulled the van into the driveway, and when I opened the garage door, I saw my brothers and the supposedly dead Tony Stark working on an Iron Man suit. I paused, just staring at them, and Billy looked back at me, but Bobby was far too focused on what he was working on. After a while, I closed the garage door and decided to only park the van in the driveway. I got out of the vehicle and quickly walked into the garage.<p>

"Hey, Becca," Billy told me, quickly trying to make everything seem to be pretty normal. Bobby was still too focused on what he was working on.

"I thought you would help me," Tony told me. "Your brothers told me you'd be useless with this sort of thing. . ."

I quickly interrupted him, shaking my head. "Don't tell me anything more. I think I'm better off not knowing."

"It's not that bad," Bobby was trying to say, still too focused on what he was studying, but I shook my head as I walked into the house.

"I still don't want to know," I said over my shoulder. "Don't even try to tell me."

I spent that afternoon, reading through a lot of the information that Kitty stole from Stryker's private office on Alkali Lake, so I was in my own world, getting angrier and angrier the more I read his handwritten notes on the Weapon X program and his mind control serum. There were hints at what he had written about something else entirely in his notes, but he knew enough not to even write those down fully.

Everything was far too quiet that night, and when I finally got over most of my anger, I noticed that it wasn't right and more of a sign of something bad to come. It didn't hurt that I heard my dad swearing at someone on the street, so I was quickly outside, wanting to see what was going on.

There was some strangely glowing people on the street fighting my dad and Billy. I looked at Tony, giving him a confused look.

"What the hell?" I asked him.

"A.I.M.," he told me. "They're after me." He explained what was done to them, a virus that was designe to make them a little faster and stronger than normal people, but there were strange and horrible side effects with the virus. They could blow up if they weren't careful.

They were behind those attacks, no home made bombs, but I could tell there was a lot that he wasn't telling me.

"They can't stand being overheated!" My brother yelled back at me.

"You might want to go," I told Tony, calmly pulling out my lighter from my pocket.

I joined my dad and brother to overheat those glowing strangers to keep them from going after the fleeing Tony. He was able to fly away to stop the Mandarin and the Ten Rings.


	35. Chapter 34

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Tony beat the guy behind "The Mandarin" and managed to save the new president. Even though we could celebrate that success, we knew it came at a very high cost. That day, he issued a statement on national television that S.H.I.E.L.D. could do what was necessary to protect us and keep us safe from terrorists. There's nothing that could ever stop them, then. My grandma wasn't happy about that, too much power, but she knew that certain things were going to happen. And, it would have to be sometime soon.<p>

It might not have tied directly to what we were dealing with, but there were people who would take advantage of the situation. That was definitely the case that summer.

S.H.I.E.L.D. created different divisions to deal with different potential threats. Any possible combination of letters had to do with those divisions. Two in particular could make anyone uneasy. The first was the Mutant Response Division, and Stryker's youngest son was directly involved with that group. Any guesses on how much they liked Mutants? The second, S.T.R.I.K.E., was the one Steve worked with on many different occasions.

The new Stryker pretty much made his opinions known every time he was on T.V. Why anyone would allow him to even be around news reporters could be anyone's guess. He kept making them look bad and pissiong off the Mutant Brotherhood. Or, maybe that was all a part of his plan. That definitely seemed like something a Stryker would do.

He managed to piss my brother off even more, and his occasional visits with the Brotherhood became more frequent. I could guess that there were more Mutants doing the same thing.

It only became worse with an announcement that came on the news, breaking through the strange footage of the mystery woman and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s actions. A man who basically owned some research companies was showing pride as he announced his great news. His name was Warren Worthington II, and he didn't like Mutants. A Mutant cure had been developed by his labs to help the "afflicted."

For a moment, he gave his son, Warren III, a look of complete and total hate and disgust, and his son almost seemed to be guilty and very hurt.

The "afflicted" also counted his only son. That would suck for him, and my anger was long gone, replaced by pity for the young man.

"They're not just going to use that for cures," Billy spat.

"How long do you think it would be before that happens?" I asked him.

"They're already using it," he told me.

He was right. Very right.

John, who later became known only as Pyro, attacked a clinic that offered the cure. He made sure not to hurt those "poor and misguided" Mutants, but he was trying to make a point. The Mardies (Mutant Response Division) appeared, and they were trying to shoot him up with the cure. He made his point rather eloquently.

That only made things worse.

* * *

><p>Nate stopped by our house during the early stages of that chaos. One thing really bothered him, and I assumed it had to do with what we were secretly working on, being so close to the possible real part of the plan, the endgame.<p>

"You know that mystery woman on the news?" He asked me, and I gave him a small nod. "She's my mom. My mom's alive."

"What?" I asked, completely surprised. That really did surprise me. "How. . .?"

He shrugged. "We don't know. She appeared at the school, and the Professor and Dad were sure she's mom."

"Does she know?" I asked him, accepting that. Stranger things had happened.

He shook his head. "All she could really remember was helping us and all of that water."

Something that Wanda told me was quickly remembered. Something powerful and horrible chose Jean for some reason, and she had to die to make the two of them stronger. I tried to tell him that, but he could not believe me. It's not too out there, even for someone like him who dealt with strange things for far too long.

"That's just. . ." I told him. "What I thought."

"Everything's not that extraordinary," he replied. "Not everything can be like New York."

"Yeah, whatever. . ." I said, not too convinced about him, and I was pretty sure that Wanda knew what she was talking about.

"So," he told me. "I was at the Triskelion after my training when Sitwell talked to me about. . .you know what. . ."

"Jasper Sitwell?" I asked, and he nodded. "That's. . .okay. . ."

He explained what little he could actually tell me before I went to tell my grandma.

"What are you going to do if you succeed?" He asked me after a while.

I was going to say something, but I stopped myself. I never really thought much about the future, a nasty habit of mine I need to get over and fast.

"Tear away at their layers," I was only able to tell him. "And burn them to keep more from growing."

* * *

><p>Steve still did stop by, always trying to help me be able to fight and defend myself and to learn what had happened since he fell asleep after the crash.<p>

I was more comfortable around him than really anyone else I knew, and that meant a lot. He was always very patient with me when he would teach me something new or tell me what I was doing wrong and fixing it. When he would reach out to me, I would feel the nerves and the butterflies, and my hands would start to shake. That always seemed to happen after I made my "small" realization.

There was this awkward silence and pause when we only looked at each other, and the world around us seemed to just fall away around us. I quickly looked away to the ground, not really wanting to show what I was feeling, not being able to hide away my emotions as well as some people I know.

When I looked up once, he gave me a questioning look, and I gave him a slight shrug. I wasn't going to tell him what I was really thinking about.

"How's your brother dealing with what's happening?" He asked me, and it was pretty clear that he had to change the subject.

"He's rarely home, now," I told him. "He's always with his new friends."

He nodded, and he looked away for a moment, thinking and choosing his words carefully. There really was that change between the two of us. "What about you?"

I pressed my lips together. Nothing about the cure made me happy. I kept thinking about how Worthington directed "afflicted" and his hatred and disgust at his own son. The fact that it was weaponized created many problems.

"It's only a matter of time before they use it against any Mutant who isn't a part of the Brotherhood," I finally said. "They're going to use that as an excuse." I paused. "It wasn't going to take long to blow up in their faces."

"That's probably the nicest thing you could say about that," he remarked.

"Yeah. . ." I said, shaking my head. 'I still don't like it at all, but I don't have to rant and rave about that."

He reach out and lightly touched my hand, and I looked up at him, seeing the unreadable that came across his face. That helped, I guess. We pulled away from each other when my mother came outside, swearing in Cajun (her family came from New Orleans, and Cajun and French were pretty much the languages of her childhood).

"Mom?" I asked her. I never heard her swear, not even in French or Cajun, so whatever was happening had to be pretty bad to make her swear like that.

"Your brother," she told me. "He's was a part of a raid with the Brotherhood."

Steve's phone went off, and he quietly answered it when me and my mom were talking about what had happened with my brother, but he was focusing his attention on me, showing some concern for me. I started to text one other person. He was the only one closest to my house at that point in time. His name was Chase, and he could absorb kinetic energy and hit it back at other people, if he so chose.

"I have to go," Steve told me, apologetically.

"I'm coming with you," I told him.

"I don't think. . ." He was trying to say.

I shook my head. "You need my help."

That was when Chase appeared to help deal with the Brotherhood. Steve had to give me a small nod. He knew enough that he couldn't tell me what I could or couldn't do.

"Are you doing this to help me?" He asked me when we were leaving. "Or your brother?"

"Do you really have to ask that question?" I asked him, and he looked back at me. His eyes flashed with understanding and something else at what I had said to him, and he was looking at me closely, seeing something completely different than I would have thought to be there.

My budding feelings for Steve and my blood-loyalty for my brother were fighting with each other. I had no idea what I was going to do when we encountered the Brotherhood.


	36. Chapter 35

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>There was only one agent, called Rumlow, who had problems with me and Chase joining the altercations with the Brotherhood. The other agents were more relieved when they realized they would have some Mutants on their side. Maybe that could stop any more animosity from growing.<p>

"They're not a part of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Rumlow was saying to Steve. "They shouldn't even be here."

"You're dealing with a rioting Brotherhood," I explained to him slowly as a way to make him understand. "S.H.I.E.L.D. swooping in to stop them won't make them settle at all."

"Stryker's got that," he told me.

I rolled my eyes. "And that's only going to make things worse."

Chase showed me a message I had on my phone, from one of the X-Men. They would help stop the Brotherhood and protect as many humans as they could, innocent or otherwise.

"You'll need us to work with any friendly Mutants," I told him. "So. . .deal with it."

Rumlow frowned, but he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop that from happening. It was too late by that point, so that was how we became involved with the Cure Riots.

* * *

><p>Magneto, Eric Lensherr, was a very charismatic man, and if you listen to him speak, you'd be surprised to learn that many of the languages (English, Spanish, Italian, and Chinese) were not his native language. He grew up only speaking German, so he had to teach himself how to speak those different languages. The Brotherhood respected him so much that they would rather die for him than submit to Homo sapiens rule or betray him.<p>

Mystique lost her powers from the cure when she stood in between Magneto and a few Mardies. It was only when he seemingly left her behind because she wasn't one of them anymore did she finally betray them. She was once one of the only people, beside his own children, that he trusted enough to tell most of his plans.

She was in an interrogation room with her arms crossed as she stared down Natasha Romanoff, probably one of the few people in the whole world who were not only unafraid of her but not fooled by her.

"Raven Darkholme -" Natasha was trying to say, but the fully human Mystique interrupted her.

She was wearing an expression of anger and hate. "That's my slave name."

They went back and forth like that for several moments before Mystique seemed to finally cave, and she told the agent everything. Possible plans and where they had their main base of operations.

Steve watched and listened to what was happening with narrowed eyes and a frown that matched his suspicions. He could see through Mystique's act, but Rumlow was pretty pleased with that. He was trying to run plans by Steve for his approval.

"What is it?" Rumlow finally asked him, becoming pretty fed up with no agreement being made and by Steve''s half-hearted responses.

"It's too easy," Steve told him. "She gave everything up far too easily."

"Anyone who's a part of the Brotherhood would rather die than betray the Brotherhood," I told him. "And, she was a part of the inner circle."

"She sacrificed her powers for Magneto to escape," Rumlow told me. "And, he coolly left her behind just for being human. He didn't care how loyal she was to him. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"If he was that cold to her," I told him, giving a dark laugh at what he had told me. "Then why did he leave her alive? She obviously knew too much."

Rumlow shook his head and rolled his eyes at what I had told him. It was pretty clear that he didn't take me seriously enough to follow my suggestions. He was the one with the experience, not me. In the end, he got his way, and we went to that location where Mystique had led us to. Rumlow took a few S.T.R.I.K.E. agents with him, leaving me and Chase behind.

It was a trap.

"You know the guy in charge, right?" Chase asked me, keeping his voice low and talking behind his hand.

I made a face. "Yeah."

"Maybe you should talk to him," he told me.

I didn't really need to get up because Pierce walked towards us, and he wanted to speak to me. I made small hand gesture that only Chase would know the meaning of to say my displeasure. Grandma didn't like him, and our old math teacher hated him. All were pretty recent realizations at that point in time.

I did follow him into an empty office, and he sat behind the desk.

"Dr. McCoy requests your assistance," he told me. "In dealing with the Brotherhood."

"Alright," I said, keeping my voice quiet and almost tremulous.

"You don't need to work for him yet," he said, sounding concerned for my safety. "And, this isn't what an intern would do."

"I want to help him, though," I told him. I made it sound like I would help anyone who needed my help, and that wasn't difficult because that's what I would do anyway. And, he knew it.

"Then take your friend," he told me. "Maybe he'll keep an eye on you and help you."

I gave him a small and serious nod, and he seemed to be pretty pleased that I understood the seriousness of the situation I would be in.

"He's on his way," he told me. "But, you still have the chance to back away from this."

"I know," I told him. "But, I still want to help."

* * *

><p>Dr. Hank McCoy of the Department of Mutant Affairs, and the X-Man known as the Beast, was the smart and scholarly type of person, and he was very good with rhetoric, showing that he was the right type of politician. Agents around him gave him strange looks. His appearance could be unsettling if they didn't expect it. He had blue cat-like fur that covered his entire body, but he was the type of person who didn't care about what people thought about his appearance. It took him almost five decades to do that.<p>

The agents stayed out of his way as he walked towards us, and they seemed to be pretty relieved that he was taking me and Chase with him. When we were out of the building, he turned to us. He looked pretty grave.

"He managed to get a large number of followers," he told us. "And, there are a few of us who are willing to fight back."

We looked at each other, pretty sure what we were going to do, nothing was going to keep us from joining.

"You have two more," I told him. My voice became steely and full of fire.

The X-Men were ready for what could only be called a last stand. Storm, Jean, Cyclops, Wolverine, Beast, and the two of us. There was that S.T.R.I.K.E. team with Steve and parts of the Mutant Response Division, so we would have to be fighting both sides. It really was going to be our last stand.

Magneto was going to force the idea of Mutant superiority down the throats of the country and then the world. Take down the current government and destroy her agencies to create his perfect all-Mutant government.

By Pyro's hand, that part of the city began to burn.


	37. Chapter 36

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>The fire sprung up around the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and it inched closer to them, making all reluctantly stand closely to each other. It was a way to lose face against the Brotherhood.<p>

I raised my hand and closed my fist, and the flames moved straight to me moved straight towards me. My other hand caught the slowly forming fireball. Pyro looked at me, and he had a quick succession of surprise, fear, and anger. It would have been pretty comical if this wasn't a serious situation.

Magneto looked at us, and he wore an expression of disgust. "You would work with your slave masters?"

He spoke in a voice that could be heard by large groups of people, and he stressed the right words to stir the hearts and minds of his followers.

I clenched my fist, and the fire went out as I walked towards him. Chase tried to grab my arm to keep me from being out in the open, but I shook his hold away from me. There was some movement from the side of the agents, but I slightly looked up at Magneto, not wanting to fully look up at him as a sign of weakness.

Magneto seemed to be a little amused, but it melted away when I didn't say anything to him. I didn't really react to what he was telling me. It was like I didn't really care about anything he would tell me. I raised out one hand, and the Mutant who tried to sneak up on me had to back away to not be burned by me.

He looked at the rest of the X-Men. "I gave you a chance." He seemed to be bothered by what he was about to do. "If you are not with us, then you are against us."

He disappeared as an older member of the Brotherhood, Azazel, removed him to a different location.

The "war" had just begun.

* * *

><p>Steve was looking back at me, and he had his arms crossed. I didn't really look at him, but I knew that his eyes were narrowed to show that he was not happy at some of my actions.<p>

Magneto and the Brotherhood were somewhere in the city, ready to attack at any moment.

"What was that about?" He asked me.

I still refused to look up at him, not really wanting to see that worry for me and some of that disappointment. He probably got impatient at that, and he gently tipped my head back to get me to look up at him.

Concern. Worry. That made sense with what was happening, but strangely, they were more directed at me as opposed to the situation around us. I quickly turned away my face, not really sure what to think about what was deep in his eyes. At the time, I wasn't really sure how to describe it.

"He's mad," I told him. "People don't think too clearly when they're mad."

He looked at me pretty closely when I said that, realizing something pretty important. He suspected there was much more about me than I would show to the people around me.

That was when Steve got a better look at the X-Men, and he could clearly see and recognize Logan. Storm managed to get my attention, trying to figure out what was going on, but I could only give her a small shrug. I had no idea what was going on.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Steve asked me, sounding a little hurt about my apparent deception.

I gave him a confused. "Tell you what?"

"We knew each other," Logan told me, showing that he had slowly learned some things about himself that were previously unknown to him due to what Stryker had done to him. "From the War."

"Wat. . ." I was trying to process that, but I could only shake my head and muttered in Cajun under my breath.

"She probably didn't know," the man who was once nicknamed "Lucky" Jim Logan by the rest of the Howling Commandos remarked.

* * *

><p>We had to act against the Brotherhood. And fast. They made their first move, and we had to react. It was chaotic as many of those events tended to be. Fighting and trying to stay alive.<p>

For the few Mutants who had to fight the nearly twenty members of the Brotherhood, Cyclops was in charge. Everyone naturally followed him, no matter what. I didn't really care. He could do what was needed at the time.

I faced my brother, and we only stared each other down. Our powers didn't affect each other, so it was pretty pointless for the two of us to try to set each other on fire.

"You still want to be involved with this?" I asked him in Cajun, gesturing around us with both of my hands. I could understand what made my brother join the Brotherhood, but I wanted him to see what they were doing.

"Matching what they did to us," Billy, Hellfire, told me. "Justice. Eye for an eye."

I shook my head, but I wasn't mad at him. It was his right to have that opinion, and I couldn't really blame him.

"Turn the other cheek," I replied, barely aware of the fighting that was going on around us. We were just a fraction of what was really going on.

There was this overzealous agent who had some of the weaponized cure. In the complete chaos, I was more aware of that agent getting ready to shoot my brother, and I stood between my brother and that agent, shoving my brother out of the way. I took the Mutant cure, and everything felt very weird.

I collapsed to the ground.

My brother was yelling at that agent, frozen in anger and not really wanting to leave my side. He was looking around, realizing that things needed to change. Apparently, Magneto was given a large dose of the cure as well, and Billy took that as a sign to gather the demoralized Brotherhood around him and escape with their lives to regroup for an event to come.

I scrambled to my feet and threw the needle on the ground with a lot of distaste and anger, and I saw that agent having to deal with Pyro. Without even thinking about it, I ran to help that agent. Pyro realized I didn't have the powers that could hurt him, and focused his attention on me, smirking right at me. I narrowly avoided getting hit by a fireball, and he grabbed my wrist, becoming very cruel.

Blinding and white-hot pain shot up my arm, and I yelled out in pain. He let go of my arm and walked away, pleased with what he had done. I held my arm to my chest, feeling the blisters pop up along the reddened skin.

Steve was at my side, checking my arm, and he chose not to go after the stragglers of the Brotherhood. He gently wrapped my wrist with some gauze that he had with him. I was crying, more out of realizing what had happened to my powers than from the second degree burn on my wrist. When my wrist was wrapped, Steve gently held me as he tried to comfort me as best as he could.

I lost my powers that day because of that stupid cure.


	38. Chapter 37

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Steve was still holding me as I looked at my wrapped hand, but I was not really aware of what was happening around me. The Brotherhood disappeared, leaving their cured leader, Magneto, behind. At first glance, one would've thought it fitting that the man who preached Mutant superiority was ditched by his followers. At first glance. Magneto was smart and a great leader. He knew that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s focus would only be on him, which would allow the Brotherhood to get away. He cared about his followers.<p>

Magneto was not seen as a threat because he lost his powers from the cure as well, and he was only seen as an older man who easily surrendered when his followers abandoned him. Imprisoning him would've been easier at that point in time.

Dr. McCoy checked my burned wrist, and Steve only had an arm around my shoulders as some kind of support for me.

"It'll scar," Dr. McCoy told me, rewrapping my wrist. He placed some kind of poultice on it that really relieved my pain. "And, you'll need to be very careful when it starts to heal."

I gave a deadened shrug. "Okay. . ."

Dr. McCoy gave me a close look, but he could not really say anything to me for a short period of time. S.H.I.E.L.D. started to get involved during the clean-up, taking statements about what had happened and trying to figure out where the Brotherhood disappeared to.

I could hear the people around me, pitying me and mocking Magneto, saying over over that the cure completely took away my powers. It made me snap a little on the inside. They acted like they knew everything about the cure and mutation.

It pissed me off.

No matter what people would tell me, I refused to believe them, and I wasn't going to stand to the side and mope about my life. That's when I sat up straighter.

Steve looked at me, noticing my sudden change. "Are you okay?'

"I am now," I told him, and he gave me a strange look. He probably thought I meant about not being a Mutant anymore. "I realized something just now."

"What?" Steve asked me, and he could see that I was becoming very stubborn, something that should have went against my shy and quiet personality.

"The cure's total B.S.," I told him. "You can't change what makes someone who they are. You can't cure blue eyes or being a ginger. You can cover it and hide it to the world, but you can't completely change it."

Steve gave me a close look, and he started to wear a small smile and shook his head at what I had told him. I think he was starting to see my true iron will. Tell me one thing, and I will do anything to prove the contrary.

"I can see why you'd be happy about that," he commented.

I gave him a small smile and a smaller laugh. "Yeah."

* * *

><p>Chase wasn't sure what he could say to me when he learned I lost my powers from the cure. He chose his words carefully when did talk to me, and that didn't really help me. Back at home, my closest friends I needed their support, but they never really had any experience with something like that before.<p>

"How are you so strong about this?" Janet asked me when she found me at home, moments after I was back at home.

"It's only temporary," I told her.

Fury and Steve were talking, and Steve was trying his best to defuse the situation about my brother being a part of the Brotherhood. Janet gave me a strange look. Unlike Steve, she didn't really see what I was telling her right away.

"It's a cure. . ." She drew that out to get me to understand her.

I laughed at that, probably showing her I was crazy or something or probably hit my head the wrong way.

"Genetics," I told her, becoming serious again. "If you can cure anything with genetics, some horrible things would already be gone long before mutation."

Janet shook her head. She would always be by my side, but she didn't really want me to get my hopes up only for them to be crushed in a horribly spectacular way. She was looked out for me in her own way.

Dr. McCoy gave me the rest of the poultice that he had made for me to place on my arm every day in the morning and in the night. It was supposed to keep my arm relieved and keep the pain down. He rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Before all of this happened," he explained to me. "I was taken to the labs where the cure had been developed. There was a boy. . .when you're around him, your mutation dampens, but when you're far enough away from him, your mutation wouldn't be dampened anymore."

"It came from him?" I asked, feeling pretty horrible at that idea and what that would've meant.

He nodded, not liking that as much as me. "Yes."

I nodded. "I can see that."

I spent the rest of that time working to make my powers come back. It was going to take me a long time, that much I knew, and I had no idea how I was going to make that happen. But, I was willing to work and wait, no matter how long it would take.

* * *

><p>S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't come to that realization, so Magneto was placed in a cell that had metal bars. No on was afraid of him anymore. I didn't know if that's incredibly brave of them or very stupid. Time would only tell.<p>

Summer was cooler and wetter that year. It's weird. I felt cold for the first time in years, and sometimes I would sit on the lifeguard stand or outside the house, feeling the coolness and trying to control the fire I used to possess.

Nothing. Always nothing.

But, I wasn't going to give up on that any time soon. I needed to be very patient. Actually. . .I needed to learn how to be very patient.

My brother was still at home, and no one wanted to talk about his actions with the Brotherhood. More and more people from our generation were becoming jaded enough to believe that the Brotherhood was right. No one would really blame him, and he never harmed a person, even if they would've deserved it.

He was impressed at what I had said about the cure. I don't think he believed it, but he was pretty impressed I wasn't going to give up on that hope. He was working on a complex project with Bobby that they started after Tony Stark sought their help when on the run from "the Mandarin." Something about their work sparked an interest in designing robots and making sure they weren't obviously robotic.

Basically, they could make robots that could pass for human if you're not looking for it.

"Why are you so interested in this?" Billy asked me when I was asking far too many questions about their little project, more surprised than suspicious. I never cared about that sort of thing before.

"They could be useful," I told him. I gave him a brief explanation of what they could be used for, a "hypothetical" explanation, and agreed with me, understanding what I really meant. He was pretty surprised I came up with something like that.

* * *

><p>I spent more time with Steve that summer. He wasn't really teaching me how to fight as much as before, and there's something about it that really made me mad.<p>

"What's going on?" I asked him when everything became too much for me to not talk about it. I was irritated.

He acted like he had no idea what I was talking about, but he did know. "What?"

I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes at him. "You changed. . .like you won't even try to teach me how to fight. . .I mean. . .defend myself. . ."

"I don't want you to feel like you need to be involved," Steve told me. He gently held my hand, and he was looking at my healing burn on my wrist.

I pulled my hand back. "You can't make that decision for me."

"To protect you. . ." He was trying to say, but I wouldn't let him finish that thought.

"It's my choice," I told him. "I can decide what's too dangerous for me or not, and. . .you know what? I don't need my powers. . ."

"Really?" He asked me, and he helped me to my feet and had me get ready to spar with him. "Prove it."

I stopped thinking and placed myself in a certain type of mindset. It's a mindset many people in my dad's family would get into when they realized they needed to protect their family or themselves, and my dad always wondered if we had gotten it from great-grandma and her Viking blood. This mindset was more instinctual than really anything.

We started to fight each other. Steve was pulling his punches, to keep himself from hurting my, and he wasn't using this as a way to teach me or to allow me to practice. It's more of a way to give me as much of a real world scenario for a fight as much as possible.

I was still in that instinctual mindset, and I didn't really pay too much attention to what was going on around us, only focusing on our fighting. Many moments passed, and something pulled me back into reality. Steve was on the ground, looking up at me, and I took a step back from him, feeling the exhaustion that started to seep in around me. He was back on his feet and was able to catch me before I collapsed to the ground from that exhaustion.

It became black, then.


	39. Chapter 38

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>I opened my eyes. The dim sunlight was painful, and I had a killer headache. There was some fatigue, but I could move, though more weakened than before. That instinctual mindset was long gone. Steve was kneeling on the ground, and he was still holding me from catching me to make sure I didn't hit my head on the ground.<p>

I was able to slowly sit up, but Steve was still holding me. He was more concerned about how I was feeling, and he wasn't going to pull away from me anytime soon. Steve helped me to my feet.

"I'm fine," I told him, and I started to walk away from him. Or course, I found the uneven ground and stumbled.

Steve was quickly at my side, and he was supporting me. He still seemed to be pretty concerned for me.

"Really?" He asked me like he was trying to make a point to me.

"I almost tripped," I told him. "It's cool."

He slowly let go of me, and he reluctantly took a step away from me. Steve looked at me with some concern, but he was studying me. It's a little uncomfortable, so I actually started to make faces back at him. He almost smiled at what I had done.

I stopped making those faces, becoming pretty serious. "What happened?"

Steve looked concerned, but he worked to hide it by shaking his head. "You won."

I made a surprised look, not really sure what to think about that. "Oh. . ."

"You weren't sure of that?" Steve asked me.

I shook my head. "No. . .I'm not sure what happened. . ."

He gave me another look of concern when I said that, and he shook his head again. "I can see why you don't like fighting."

"That's not why," I told him, pursing my lips together. "That never really happened to me before. . .exactly. . .I just don't like fighting. . .unless I absolutely have to."

Steve realized I didn't need my powers to protect myself. He knew I was pretty smart and can think my way out of any sticky situation, and I did learn how to fight after being taught by Steve. steve could really start to understand me even better than many people who were not a part of my family, and it's like looked at me much differently from that moment on.

It was more of some kind of friendship than being an ally or a student. A close kind of friendship, and it was one step beyond the beginning. I would say that's the turning point between us.

* * *

><p>Nate, starting to go by Cable at that point, showed up towards the end of summer. He spoke about how deeply he was in S.H.I.E.L.D.<p>

"You guys were right," he told me after telling me what he had learned from deep within those inner circles of that organization.

"You didn't believe me?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "I didn't want to. Who does?"

I nodded, understanding him. "It's why no one ever fully trusts authority."

He made a face, not too happy about that. "Ward talked to me, and he introduced me to his old mentor. Garrett."

"Good," I told him. "Good. He trust you?"

"He has no reason not to."

"Anything else?" I asked, making the mental chess pieces move, a trick my grandma taught me that she had used when she was once a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. in the sixties before she left active duty to have my dad and uncles.

"There's a division or facility that doesn't follow orders," he told me. "They found a loophole and are exploiting it." He told me about that Facility, the same one that Stryker's notes spoke about. "They have Stryker's notes on Mutants."

We were both silent as that sort of began to sink in for us. It was not going to be good for us or anyone else. I wanted to act as soon as possible, but my grandma's patient teaching had won out. It wouldn't help anyone if I acted far too quickly, nothing could end well with that.

The plan sort of altered then. Names of the missing were kept track of by me from that moment on. I paid attention to the missing Mutants that were rumored to have been taken by the Mardies, noting their powers and the fact they registered for the Mutant Registration Act. People told me about more when they realized I would be able to help them get back their friends or family.

I listened to them when they talked to me, and they would leave feeling like I would be able to help them. They would be loyal only to me because of that.

* * *

><p>Janet was at my house in the middle of summer. She seemed to be pretty grim instead of her usually warm self.<p>

"We met last night," she told me, talking about our group of Mutants who protected the town and our surrounding areas.

I frowned, knowing what that could've meant. "I didn't hear about it."

"You're no a Mutant," she told me, grimacing at her words. she didn't agree with their decision and beliefs. "And, you're not supposed to be involved anymore."

"I can't help protect our town?" I asked. I was deceptively calm and collected.

Janet shook her head. "They don't think it's right."

"They do realize that i'm not going to stop, right?" I asked. "Traditionally that was acceptable."

"They conveniently forgot about tradition when they made the decision," Janet agreed. "And, they figured you wouldn't care too much about it."

"They're wrong," I ended up saying.

"I wish I'd be here to see that," Janet replied, almost smiling at that thought.

"Lucky," I replied, smiling at the idea of what their reactions could be. "Greenwich, England just sounds cool."

She shrugged. "I'm going to try to spend my weekends in Ireland."

I strangled a little at her words. "Not cool."

We laughed together for that moment, and the uneasiness that she had brought with her was forgotten completely. She knew what I could possibly do.

"You'll be in D.C.," she told me, wiggling her eyebrows at me. "And closer to Steve."

I stuck my tongue out at her. "Really? We'd both be too busy for any of that."

"You two will make time," Janet predicted, wearing a knowing smile.

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm not someone he would want to spend so much time with."

Janet blinked several times, trying to process what she had been told. Then she wore the expression that she had normally worn that would have been used whenever I would do something she would think to be pretty stupid.

"Really?" She asked me, but she gave me a close look. "Yeah. . ." She shook her head at me in disappointment. "Wow."

"What?" I asked her, confused at her reaction.

"Just wow," was all she said about that, and she quickly decided to change the subject. "Lauren's taken charge by the way."

The confusion went away, and I cackled. It's going to work well for me and what I was going to do to fix the breaking down of tradition for the belief of so-called superiority.

* * *

><p>I walked into the meeting at the time Lauren had told me, and everyone stopped talking when they saw me. They didn't think I should've been there, but I walked into the meeting, not really caring about their reactions.<p>

"Why are you here?" A guy named Ty demanded. He looked down his nose at me, and I wanted to punch him in the face.

"It looks like we forgot something pretty important," I told them. "You know. . .the one thing we were raised to focus on."

"That's old," another kid scoffed at what I had told them. "We're in the Twenty-First Century."

"We don't need an Ordinary's help," Ty agreed. "We're Gifted by God."

"You want the world to change, don't you?' I asked, walking around them. "You want to be accepted by the powerless majority, but you do exactly what they do to us. You don't accept them as they are. How can they trust you when you don't even trust them?" I paused to allow my words to sink in for them. "And besides. . .there's one very important thing you overlooked, Ty. You in your arrogance forgot the one thing that we were all taught in sunday school when we were growing up. We're all equal under God and Jesus."

We were a very religious group of people in rural communities. We had to take comfort in our religion. People treat us terribly for being what we were, so we really needed that extra comfort. What I had just told them was the main reason why we all were willing to believe that everyone was equal, and we used that piece of religion to combat the religion that many others had been using.

I stressed the last words to make my point. It's one of those things that kept me from following in my brother's footsteps. They were silent, knowing that I was right. They had ignored what they had been taught.

"Anyway," I told them. "I know what we need to do to keep our homes safe."

That was when they were starting to realize that I could actually lead them.

The plans to keep our homes safe were laid into place. Beware to anyone who dare to come to our town with ill-intent.


	40. Chapter 39

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Me and Lauren were talking as we looked over the maps of the town and the surrounding areas. We placed marks of where safehouses and caches of weapons were to be buried in the ground. Many of those places were remnants of the very uneasy times when Mutants were slowly becoming a household name in the late sixties and early seventies before the smart Iowa governor signed into law that would allow a person to kill anyone who threatened their family members for there being a Mutant living under their roofs.<p>

"Becca. . ." The voice of Bobby broke through our conversation.

We looked up from the maps, and Bobby was walking with Steve.

"What?" I asked Bobby.

"Is it alright. . .?" He asked us.

I looked over at Lauren, and she gave me a faint nod. Steve was probably one of the few Outsiders we could trust with our protection plans.

"It's cool," I told him and Bobby quickly walked away.

Steve looked around us, and he crossed his arms when we made eye contact. I wanted to look away from him, but I refused to. My stomach flipped around, and my face started to become warm. Great. I would start to show my attraction for him when I was around him. Of course.

I quickly looked down at the map like I remembered I needed to look at something. Lauren elbowed me in the side, and I elbowed her back, looking sideways back at her.

"What's with all of this?" He asked us. He was studying one of our contingency plans for what could happen in an attack.

"We're getting ready for the Zombie Apocalypse," I told him.

Lauren rolled her eyes when I said that, but Steve looked like he almost laughed at that. He was probably one of the few people I knew who actually appreciated my sense of humor.

"Since when were you involved with this?" Steve asked us.

"We've always had the need to protect ourselves," I explained. "It's fallen by the wayside lately."

"It's mostly Becca's baby," Lauren said, giving me a knowing look as she quickly walked away from us to give us a moment alone.

"Why aren't you surprised about that?" I asked Steve.

"You don't give yourself enough credit," he told me.

I gave him a small smile when he told me that, and I looked down for a moment. Steve gently tipped my head back to have me look up at him, and we were like that for a long, long moment.

"It's not me. . ." I told him. "Or maybe. . .me, but no one really listens to me. Never. Except for my family or my closest of friends."

He was quiet, wearing a faint frown. "Doesn't mean you have to listen to them. You would never listen to them."

I nodded, taking a step back from him. "It happens all the time. They never listen to me. Ever. Never give me a chance." I looked up at him again, and I really felt it. I guess it was starting to become more than a simple crush. "Except for you."

We looked at each other in that moment, and he reach out to me. Steve lightly touched my cheek, and he stepped closer to me. He lightly brushed his lips over mine. For a moment, I was frozen in disbelief. I wasn't really sure if it was happening or not. That sort of thing never really happened to someone like me. Somehow it actually was happening to me.

I kissed him back, and time began to slow down around us. He pulled away from me, slowly, and I felt a little unsteady.

"What was. . ." I couldn't really find the words, and I was wearing a very small smile.

"Just wanted to," he told me, and I believed him. He quickly cleared his throne and looked at the maps again, trying to find something else to speak about at that moment. "How did you get them to listen to you this time?"

I took a moment to calm my nerves and steady my breathing. "I made them listen. Actually. . .I have an aunt in New Orleans who doesn't take crap from anyone, so I channeled her."

"Maybe. . ." Steve told me, and it was pretty clear he didn't think that's the real way I got them to listen to me.

He could really see what I was capable of, and I was starting to see he was giving me a chance to show it. It's hard to forget about that.

* * *

><p>Later, we were in our own groups, armed with paint ball guns. It's one of the many times we would work on the defensive plan I would come up with, so we would know those plans better than anyone else and be able to make snap decisions in the heat of the moment. We were divided into groups with the people we would trust with our lives, our closest friends and in many cases only family members.<p>

One group would be the aggressors, acting like they were Stryker's' men and ready to attack and kill everyone of us. Everyone else would work to keep them from moving too far.

I was on the same team as Lauren, Maggie, and Janet, a part of the so-called Sisterhood, and we were stalking the aggressors, waiting for the right moment to strike. No one was supposed to use their powers, that being the one stipulation on the law that had passed all those years ago, but we were also showing that we were not the monsters they were portraying us as, always wanting to use our vast and godlike powers on the unsuspecting human populace.

I made a small but very exaggerated hand gesture for the other three and another team ( Tyler, Jacob, and Chris) to see. Then. . .we attacked the aggressors. The seven of us shot at them, and they had to surrender when they were covered with our paint.

Jacob stomped his foot, and another team rolled out from underneath the ground, ready to shoot fi they needed to.

The town, our families, would be safe.

* * *

><p>The closer it got to July, the more it actually felt like summer, and I worked at the pool every day, basically being a baby sitter instead of being a lifeguard. They were very long afternoons.<p>

There was one afternoon when me and Lauren worked together. We blasted one of our favorite songs from the deceptively small stereo speakers. We danced and sang to that one song before we started to laugh like crazy. It was all pretty ridiculous if one were to see it all out of context, but we didn't really care about that.

Jesse was there, shooting the basketball and trying to fish it out of the pool with the shepherd's hook, so he wouldn't have to get into the water. He was really working to ignore the craziness of the two of us, but I really didn't really think it was working.

"What are you doing?" He asked us after awhile.

I was going to tell him something, but Lauren turned me around to show me that Tyler wanted to talk to me. He usually actively avoided the pool if it was possible for him, so I knew he really needed to talk to me about something.

"What is it?" I asked him when I walked towards him.

"I'm done with school," he told me. "Never could get used to it." We may have been in the same grade in school, but he was a year younger than me. That made sense.

"Okay. . ." I told him. We were cousins, so I couldn't see why he would tell me. But, I was going to support him if he needed me to.

He quickly pulled out a cell phone to show me a message. It talked about him becoming a part of a group of heroes.

"Heroes for Hire?" I asked him in confusion, handing him his phone back.

"They are who they sound like," he told me, pocketing his phone. "But it's better than working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Anyway, for a lot of us, it isn't about the money. She told me it would give us a chance to become a part of something more."

"That's pretty noble," I told him, actually agreeing with him. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You're the oldest in our generation," he explained. "I'm supposed to tell you this."

"To get my blessing. . .?" I asked him. "Or. . .?"

"Whatever you want to do about it," he told me. "Don't you think it would be useful to have someone you know involved with this group?"

He knew how I looked at the world, thanks to my grandma's teaching. It did make sense. They would be more willing to work with me if I needed them because of Tyler's connection with me.

I smiled and cackled. "I'll be calling."


	41. Chapter 40

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I was sitting cross legged on the ground of the guard house, and I was scrawling some kind of list. Lizzie, another friend of mine, watched me doing that, and she would give me some kind of suggestions for the list. I got fed up, though, and threw the paper at my pile of stuff. It was very humid and buggy, and there were kids still swimming that day.<p>

"Simmer down," Lizzie told me.

The kids were in the hall of the guard house, screaming at us about getting some candy. That hall would echo any kind of noise. It was annoying. That was basically a very normal day.

The tornado siren filled the air, and we immediately acted. Lizzie and I led the kids to a hidden hole in that plot of land, both of us not really having any kind of powers. It was our job to make sure they would be safe. Janet was running around the pool, keeping an eye on everything and getting ready to fight. The faint light around her formed into the shape of armor and a sword.

I was in the hole and quickly changed into the boots that were there, and I grabbed a metal staff before having Lizzie close the door to the hole, not listening to anything Lizzie was telling me about needing to be more careful and stay in the safe hole. My grip tightened around the metal staff when I saw three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stroll into that part of town.

One agent was Grant Ward, working to keep his face expressionless, and another was nicknamed Cable (we knew him by a different name). His bright green eyes were pretending he did not recognize me. The older man wore heavy clothes that were all black, and it was pretty hot that day. Even I wasn't wearing my favorite black sweatpants because it was so hot.

It was like he was hiding something. There was a burn scar closer to his neck, and he favored one leg over the other. My grandma was disgusted by him, through their mandatory counseling sessions after a horrific mission that nearly got him killed. She learned something very important about his personality and hidden convictions. His name was John Garrett.

"What's going on?" I asked very quietly. I was being meek and quiet when I was going to deal with them, and I stumbled my way through my words. I was still ready for any kind of an attack.

Another agent came walking down the other end of the street, so I took a step that would allow me to see all ot them. That agent was taller and black, and he seemed to be the more easy going one. He was named Triplett.

"It's like a ghost town here," he was saying.

Janet walked down the hill from the pool. Her hands were on her special necklace that would have channeled her armor power. She was only tense because I was.

"We're getting ready for the Zombie Apocalypse," I told the final agent.

"Zombies?" Ward asked, some disbelief coloring his normally monotone voice.

"My auntie deals with voodoo in New Orleans," I replied, without even missing a beat. "Zombies can totally happen."

"This town is full of Mutants," Garrett said. His tone was darker than I thought it would be. It made me chilled, even in the heat of summer. "I wouldn't blame them for being paranoid."

"What's happening?" Janet asked.

Garrett actually bothered to pay attention to her, an outsider seeing her as the leader.

"there was word that a fugitive was here," Garrett told Janet, handing her a file. "You might know her."

"Laura Kinney?" Janet said. "Never heard of her."

"Are you sure?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

I went to play with my ring, signalling to her what she could say next.

"We would recognize her as a stranger," Janet explained. "We would keep a very close eye on her."

Garrett had to choose to believe that. To push the matter would be to show his cards to us. I was a little disappointed he had more control than I thought. Maybe he wasn't that desperate just yet. But before he left, he had Triplett keep an eye on the town. He stopped the conversation when his phone went off.

"Alexander Pierce," a voice in my head told me. It came from Cable.

Those three were gone, leaving Triplett in the middle of nowhere for that moment.

"Was that really why all four of you were here?" I asked him.

"It's your brother's connections," he told me.

"Alleged," I corrected.

"His alleged connections," he told me. "And, your home town militia raised some suspicions."

"We're within our rights," I told him. I could trust him a little. I hit my staff two times on the door to the safehouse . Danger was gone, but they needed to wait to come out. "It's a part of the law, and there are people out there who would love to see us all dead and gone. But. . .I can understand why people would be uneasy about how we choose to defend ourselves."

He understood that, probably one of the few agents who did, and he acted like he saw nothing that was happening as we let the kids out of the different safe houses around town. Triplett did keep a close eye on anyone coming into town, but he didn't like the face he was left behind by his mentor.

"Hey, Janet," I called when things settled back down into normalcy.

"What?" She asked, getting ready to walk out of the guardhouse.

"Who's in charge of seeing off the alarms this week?" I asked.

She thought for a moment and went to check her phone. "Kelli."

"Of course," I muttered.

Janet shook her head. "Quit trying to blame her for everything. Just because you don't like her, doesn't mean she would betray us. She saw three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and one of them looked pretty creepy. She was just jumpy."

"Since when do you defend Kelli?" I asked her.

"When you taught me to give people the benefit of the doubt."

I grimaced when she told me that. She was right, and I guess I forgot about that whenever I thought about Kelli. Sometimes, I would act like the people around me who hated Mutants just because.

* * *

><p>There was a meeting at my grandma's house, and my presence was needed. I walked into the house that night to see Nick Fury sitting and talking with my grandma. There was a stack of files on the table between them, and it was pretty clear they couldn't really agree on something.<p>

"Take a seat," my grandma told me, and I sat at the end of the table. The same place I would sit when I would have lunch or supper with my grandma when I was staying at her house when I was much younger.

Fury handed me one thin file, and when I opened it, I froze. Apparently, Phil Coulson, the agent whose death by Loki's hand was the real catalyst to form the Avengers, was actually alive and well (well probably being a relative term, here).

"He'll be forming his own team," he explained. "And, apparently, you have a suggestion."

"Grant Ward," I told him.

"I'll tell Hill to make notes of his next several missions," Fury said before he left. "On your grandmother's suggestion." He gave the two of us a look before leaving. "I hope you two know what you're doing."

"I was nicknamed the Chessmaster," my grandma told him. "And, she sees the world like I do." She looked back at me. "Good choice. I would have made the same one."

"It made sense."

* * *

><p>I got a random call from Nate. He sounded very concerned, and he was really working to hide it. It didn't work.<p>

"My mom's acting weird again," he told me. "She just seems so spaced out, and something's up with my dad. I think. . ."

He told me what he suspected, could sense. I didn't know what I could do to help him, but I think he needed someone who would actually listen to his suspicions.

I remembered what Wanda told me and what I had seen before she had died. There was something going on with Jean Grey, and maybe she shouldn't be under anyone's control.

"I'll keep my eyes open for you."


	42. Chapter 41

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Me and Janet went to talk to Kelli when we closed the pool for the afternoon, and Triplett was still walking with us, probably looking for the rest of his group by that point. Kelli and Garrett immediately stopped talking. Not suspicious at all. But, Kelli looked like she didn't really tell him anything, so maybe I was just jumping to conclusions again. That always seemed to happen when I was dealing with her. I was always willing to believe the worst in her because I didn't really like her all that much.<p>

"Is everything okay?" I asked them, being polite and sounding concerned for them.

"Fine," Garrett told me curtly, and he was about to leave. "If you feel worried, we can talk the Mardies down. They would listen to us."

I had to work to keep my frown from showing. That confirmed another thing for me.

"We'll keep that in mind," Janet told him. She was not happy about that either.

The agents were long gone, and Kelli went back what she was supposed to be doing, looking for any potential threats along the countryside that could not be a good thing for our homes and families.

"What was that about?" I asked her, trying not to be as annoying as I would be when I was around her.

"I freaked out," she told me, sounding as genuine and honest as she possibly could. "I mean they're S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. That would never be good for us. I just freaked out."

I shared a look with Janet, and I realized that I wanted to believe her. She didn't have a mutation, but she was friends and grew up with a lot of Mutants. Of course, she'd freak out about S.H.I.E.L.D. suddenly appearing out of nowhere after what had happened in D.C. earlier that summer.

"The reason they're here," Kelli said. "It was total B.S. I just freaked out."

"Yeah. . .total B.S.," I agreed with her. "Something was off with that."

* * *

><p>It was not a busy day because it was the Fourth of July, so me, Lauren, and Janet were the only ones who were working at the pool that day. Not even the pool rats showed up that day because they were off having fun some place else. We kind of already celebrated the Fourth a week earlier when the uncle and aunt and their children from Oklahoma were able to sneak up. Probably for the first time in forever, my Fourth was free to watched the fireworks by the lake with some of my closest friends.<p>

We were messing around in the guard house, being that bored. Of course that was when Steve appeared. I sort of had my back to him, but Lauren was wearing that knowing smile. I knew he was there. I tipped my head back to look at him.

"Hey," I said, trying to smile at him which was pretty difficult when you're looking at someone upside down.

Janet tried to pull Lauren out of the guardhouse, so me and Steve could have some kind of privacy. I made a face at her which she only waved away at that.

"You know what?" I said, finally turning to face him. "We might close. This is ridiculous."

He was still kind of laughing at what the three of us had been doing.

"Invite him to come with us," Janet prompted me.

"What?" Steve asked me.

"Shooting off fireworks on a lake a town over," I told him. "Wanna come with? It can be pretty fun."

He didn't really need to think about it too hard. "Yeah."

I gave him a small smile, and I could hear Lauren and Janet just freaking out about that for me.

"Really?" I told them when I looked out of the guardhouse window. "Really?"

"Nothing," Lauren told me. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry. . ." I was saying, getting ready to "yell" at them. "You two are planning something. I can tell."

"I'm hurt, Becca," Janet said in a mock wounded tone of voice. "Hurt."

* * *

><p>Janet led us to a group of friends by the lake, and we could already hear a few of them (guys) goofing around before the tell tale sound of some of the boys falling into the lake.<p>

Me and Steve hung back a little from the rest of the group, walking closer together. Lauren looked back at us and winked before being with the rest of the group.

We didn't sit with the rest of the group, just on the other side of the bushes. Steve ended up having one of his arms wrapped around my waist, and I rested my head on his shoulder, too transfixed by the fire.

"Doesn't anyone find it interesting that you and the rest of your family love fire a little bit too much, and you could easily control it?" Steve asked me, trying to joke about it a little.

I looked up at him. "Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?" For a moment, he looked like he wasn't sure how to gauge my reaction. The, I snorted which made him look a little relieved. "You actually made a joke."

"And?"

"You should do it more often," I told him. "Life's too short to be serious."

We were too engrossed with watching the fireworks and sitting that close to each other, so we weren't aware of what was happening around us. A bright flashlight shone at us, and we quickly pulled apart to cover our eyes.

"Hand check!" The voice of Jesse (Dean) was saying loudly at us. He was another teleporter.

"Who the hell gave you a flashlight?!" I yelled back at him.

"It's mine," he answered, disappearing. I could still hear his trademarked, high pitched laughter.

I had to blink several times to get my sight back, and I could tell that steve had been doing the same thing.

"They always do that?" he asked me, and he went back to wrapping an arm around my shoulders again.

"All the time," I replied, and he gave a small shake of his head and gave me a small chuckle.

I started to play with my old lighter, trying to get it to show the flame that had been blown out the moment I was cured. Nothing. Still nothing. Sometimes I thought it would happen, and someone could argue that it had to do with the dangers of wishful thinking. Nothing was going to get me to stop trying to get my powers back. Nothing.

Steve enclosed my hand holding the lighter with his larger one, and he looked into my eyes.

"You said it yourself," he told me. "Give it time."

I made a sound in the back of my throat to show my displeasure and impatience. "I don't like waiting."

"I know," he told me. "I know."

I took my hand back and pocketed my lighter, but that would always be on my mind, no matter what I was going to do. That was my new obsession, and nothing would ever change that. Nothing.

At the front of my house, we only quietly talked, not wanting the night to really end for us. I gave him a small smile, and I stood up on my toes to lightly kiss him. One of his hands ran through my bright blonde hair as he kissed me back. When I pulled away from him to get back into the house, I could only look into his kind, blue eyes. They were giving me a look that no one had ever really given to me before. I wanted to give him a smile, but whatever was in his look made me to even try to make that smile work. He pulled me into another, much deeper kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he held me a little closer to him before we quickly pulled away from each other.

"I have. . ." I told him, shaking my head. "Lessons early tomorrow. See you." I went to walk away, but he gently grabbed my hand to have me look up at him. He was giving me a questioning look, trying to find out something. "What?"

He quickly let go of my arm, shaking his head for that moment. "Nothing. Just. . .thinking about something."

"I'll see you again," I told him, giving him another light kiss.

I could feel his eyes on me as I walked back into the house. That should have been enough for me to forget about a potential traitor in our group.


	43. Chapter 42

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>My mom had me pick something up from the post office, and when I came back, I saw her on the porch quietly speaking with a man with ebony skin (from what little I could see of it from being covered by jeans and a sweatshirt). Most of his face was covered by the shadow from the hood of his sweatshirt. Any car that drove by the house made him very uneasy, and he would suddenly look down at the ground to make sure no one saw his face.<p>

Mom spoke to him in some language I never thought she would even know how to speak, and the man actually relaxed, not being as suspicious when he first saw me.

"Is she your eldest?" He asked my mom in English, and she nodded. He had the thick accent of someone who was familiar with English, only speaking properly, but it was not even close to being similar to his first language.

I gave my mom a strange look when I heard that question. It was completely out of the blue and completely random. If there was any kind of context to that question, I didn't really see it.

"I decided to do some missionary work for my church when your dad started classes again back when we were both in college," my mom explained. "I went to Wakanda to help the few Christians there.

"When I got there, I realized there was more problems than anyone realized."

"For centuries," the man went to clarify. "The people of Wakanda practiced the cults of the Black Panther, the White Ape, and a few others. We believed, for so long, that anything from the Outside was heresy. Any who chose to follow the beliefs of the Outsiders were viewed with suspicion."

"They were imprisoned and treated horribly," my mom finished. "I snapped and bullied the king. . ." Her voice became quieter. "His father. . .into bringing religious tolerance to Wakanda. I realized I was pregnant with you at the time."

"Oh. . ." I said before making an exaggerated frustrated sound. "Mom. . ."

One of her younger sisters was just as bad, if not worse, as my mom. People always wondered where my aunt got it from.

"Because of her actions," the man said. "She was named a Friend of Wakanda." My mom showed me the beautiful and very intricate tattoos on her left wrist, the symbol of the trust that Wakanda had placed in her. "Which is why I am here."

His name was T'Challa, the Crown Prince (at the time) of Wakanda. He was exiled from his country and people when a coup killed his father and placed a traitorous and despot ruler on the throne of Wakanda. That man's name was M'Baku, sometimes referred to as Man-Ape. T'Challa knew that my mom would find a way to help him save his people and his country.

My mom looked at me, and she closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself for what she needed to say next.

"Becca can help you," she told him. "She may not have her powers any more, but she will find a way to help you."

"Then," T'Challa said. "She will be a Friend of Wakanda."

He drew the same intricate as my mother's on my left arm, but he made room for more, future patterns for my own acts.

I pulled out my phone to talk to my future boss to arrange some help and a ride for me and my new friend. I did tell him the truth of what was going on, knowing that he would understand it all and pick the right person to come with me.

"It didn't take me long to find someone who would help you two," he told me after awhile. "Storm knew what was happening. She's already on her way."

* * *

><p>I led T'Challa to the empty football field where the jet landed. The trees closest to the field danced against the wind, and all the kids at the pool were standing right at the fence, trying to get a good view of everything that was happening. They were easily entertained by anything.<p>

A woman with ebony skin and shot, snowy white hair walked out of the jet. Like me, she wore simple, black clothing that would allow her to move easily in any kind of fight. When she looked at T'Challa, her blue eyes flashed in recognition, and she actually wore a shy and almost girlish kind of smile.

Well now. . .

"You two know each other, I take it?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"We go way back," Storm told me, and he gave me a small and curt nod. He wasn't really taking his eyes off of her, though.

"Makes sense," I said, shrugging as I walked onto the jet. "Tell me about Wakanda. That's going to help me help you."

This was probably one of the first times I actually openly took control of a situation. I didn't need to be provoked that time to take control. I just did it.

* * *

><p>I was very silent after he explained to me about Wakanda's complex people and culture. My hands were over my eyes as I laid back, thinking and planning. All-out war was never going to work, and it was pretty clear that many of the old ways were hated by T'Challa, many of them being behind him losing his father and his home in one fell swoop. He didn't want to claim his throne in the same way as the man who killed his father, and he knew it was pretty clear that it would create more problems than it would solve in the modern world.<p>

Strangely, I kept thinking about how my mom and some of my aunts would usually work to protest for or against something. It mostly had to do with how they gained support.

I immediately sat up. My soft, blonde hair had to have been a complete mess, and my eyes were wide like I could be pretty crazy. They were giving me strange looks.

"Wait. . ." I told them. "I know what we can do."

* * *

><p>I wore a head wrapping that completely covered my face, a custom that the holy women of the Cult of the Lion would do. The people around me didn't look at me twice. To them, I was one of them. I listened to the people around me talk, and I closely studied their faces.<p>

These people were full of the deepest sorrow. They lost their beloved king, and his son was removed from the country in complete disgrace. The people of Wakanda couldn't openly mourn those losses. Their new king earned his right to the throne by winning the trial by combat, an ancient and very important tradition in Wakanda. To grieve would be considered as an open threat to their new king. They didn't like M'Baku as their king. He was cruel to his people, only liking his power he had over them and not caring he was their caretaker and protector.

They would do anything to get their prince back.

That was all I really needed to know before I was going to act.

The women of the Cult of the Lion were mystic, hence the head coverings, and they had a more intimate attachment to the being they worshipped and to the country they called home. They would do what was necessary to make sure their country survives, even if it means ignoring outdated traditions to get back a king who would do his job as caretaker and protector.

One woman of the Cult of the Lion, possible consort to T'Chaka and mother of T'Challa, found me, and she grabbed my left arm to carefully study the meaning behind those intricate patterns. Whatever she saw made her trust me. She led me to an out of the way place where she was meeting with the other women of the Lion Cult.

"Not only is she a Friend of Wakanda," the woman told the others. "But, she is a Friend of the People."

That was enough to make them trust and accept me.

They taught me the language of the common people of Wakanda (called Low Wakandan in English), and it was the same language my mom bothered to learn. T'Challa and all of his ancestors were the only noblemen who even bothered to learn that language. I needed to be able to speak to the people of Wakanda without M'Baku and his aristocratic buddies understanding me.

"The price and rightful king went to your mother," the woman told me. "And, your mother sent you here. There is something about you that would make this work."

"M'Baku disregarded his people," I explained. "With all that's happening all around the world, he should learn to be afraid of his people. Never the other way around."

With their help, I was going to sew the seeds of a revolution. Hopefully, when I'm done there, the people of Wakanda would choose who would be their caretaker, protector, and king. it was clear they wanted T'Challa as their king.

* * *

><p>I walked back to our little hiding place in the jungles closest to the mines in a strange mountain, and I heard voices. They were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents Garrett and Sitwell.<p>

"How in the world is the world's largest and only supply of Vibranium found in this backwater, African country?" Sitwell asked.

"It's a mystery to me," Garrett replied. "Though, by this point, nothing can really surprise me."

One of his hands rested on his side like he was in some kind of intense pain. They were watching a small number of S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists studying the mines and trying to find the best way possible to get the most Vibranium as possible.

"I still can't believe Howard Stark wasted this on Captain America's shield," Garrett remarked, unimpressed.

"I wouldn't say it was a waste," Sitwell replied. "You need to see him use it."

"Saw the footage." Garrett shrugged that away like it was really nothing to him. "Tell M'Baku that we'll start mining by the end of the week. We'll need this metal and its capabilities sooner rather than later."

That was when M'Baku was king. S.H.I.E.L.D. needed direct control over the Vibranium mines to weaponize that precious metal.


	44. Chapter 43

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>I walked back to camp, and even I could see the long history between Storm and T'Challa. It was that obvious, and I didn't really want to be there. It was that awkward for me.<p>

"Alright, guys," I said, loudly, and they looked directly at me, surprised. "Do I need to do a hand check?"

"What have you uncovered?" T'Challa asked me, brushing away the teasing suggestion.

"The Cult of the Lion will help," I said. "By allowing me to be some temporary member I guess. I know I have their blessing with whatever I'm doing."

"You're starting to ramble," Storm quietly told me.

"Oh. . .right. . ." I said, making a face. "Anyway. . .he's hated by pretty much everyone, and they'd love to have you back."

"That is not tradition."

"M'Baku ditched tradition," I told him. "He had some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents help him become king." I shook my head. "That's what I overheard at least."

I told them everything I overheard, deliberately leaving out how they took control of the great assets of the world. Nothing more.

"That was how M'Baku managed to defeat my father," T'Challa said through clenched teeth. "He had Outsider help and technology to defeat my father."

"Wouldn't put it past those particular agents," I muttered, earning strange stares from them. "What? I was just thinking out loud. I tend to do that sometimes."

I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, and I was thinking and planning something out. The agents confirmed many more of my suspicions, but their presence created more problems for us. They were not going to allow us to take back the country.

"A revolution. . ." I said out loud, opening my eyes. "You all were paying attention to the events near you. A revolution." I started pacing, but I started to keep my voice low and quiet. Only the other two should listen to me. "It shouldn't take much convincing. They hate Man-Ape and are still only loyal to you. They'll make the right decision in the end."

"And, how will you do that?" Storm asked me.

"We're going to use our words."

* * *

><p>A somber feeling filled the air as the common people of Wakanda walked through the sparse marketplace. They worked to keep their heads down and never make eye contact with anyone. They were that afraid of their new king. Many of the able bodied men were conscripted into service for their new king. They were going to work in the mines to remove the precious metal from the strange mountain.<p>

Again, this was something that went against everything they were taught growing up in Wakanda. Not just anyone could take the Vibranium. There was precautions and traditions that had to do with the mines. Only the Wakandan king could make that choice, and even then, very few could be allowed to leave the country. That was their belief and mission. Guard the Vibranium and make sure it didn't fall into the wrong hands.

That was another place where M'Baku had failed.

If you were there in Wakanda during that somber period of time, you would have seen a woman wearing a white head covering, face completely covered and eyes barely being seen. That woman walked with purpose among the people of Wakanda. She was untouched by M'Baku and his men because the people of the Cult of the Lion, especially the women, inspired great awe and fear, much like the animal itself. It would never end well if you angered one of those women. Who knows what they could do to a person who angered or offended them?

The woman's appearance caused the people around her to stop what they were doing to listen to her. She stood in a posture that declared she would tell an old, old story, lost to the dust of time and to declare a vision to the future. The white robes in the Cult of the Lion would usually indicate their wearer was a seer.

She held out her hands and tipped her head back and eyes closed like she was interpreting some unseen and powerful inner light. The people gathered around her, wondering what she would say to them. Excitement filled the air, actually cutting through the thick somber feeling that had descended over the people the moment T'Chaka had been killed and M'Baku became king.

"Your trials now are not a punishment to your people," the woman said in the Low Wakandan of the common people. M'Baku had high aspirations, so he and his people refused to learn their language. Royals would never do that, though the Black Panther (the hereditary name and title of T'Challa's family) had learned the language. "This is a sign to start change."

The woman started to walk among the group of people. She held their undivided attention.

"Cataclysm can only make you stronger," she said. "Tragedy will usher in a new time of change."

Many of the younger adults, the same age as the woman, listened intently when she said those words. They had heard of the revolutions that had toppled many of the governments in that area of the world over the past couple of years.

"This is your home," she continued. "Why should an outdated tradition be manipulated to force a ruler on you that you do not want? Now is the time for you to make your own choice. This is your home, your lives, your families. . .this is your choice."

That ignited a fire within the group of people.

"The Black Panther!" A voice deep within the group said.

T'Challa's name was spread around the group, spoken with a hope and reverence that was saved for a beloved leader. The seeds of a great revolution had been set in place, and it was only a matter of time before words would become actions.

* * *

><p>That same woman started to tell one of the Wakanda's oldest and most beloved of stories. It spoke of the first king, the first Black Panther, who united the ancient tribes of Wakanda's ancestors as one people. He became a legendary figure for these people, so much of the stories about his life became more myth than fact.<p>

She started to mix aspects of another legendary king from Great Britain. There was already some within that story, but she made them a little bit more obvious, more plausible.

"What the people of Wakanda need him the most," the woman told the people around her, after having finished the great epic. "He will return."

Who was that woman? Me. I was that woman.

* * *

><p>It was just about sunrise after a horribly stormy night when a solitary man walked into the closest thing Wakanda had to a city. A bright rainbow painted across the sky to the one side of him, and as he walked, the sun began to rise behind him. It sort of gave him a halo of light. He created quite a commotion as he came into the city (Probably had to do with one of the premonitions I told the people: "The great deliverer and king would be crowned by the sunlight.").<p>

He sought sanctuary in the temple for the Panther God, and not even M'Baku would allow him to be harmed. That could cause all kinds of problems. It was one thing to anger the people on day-to-day things and committing regicide, but it was another to completely ignore the protocols on their religious way of life.

T'Challa, being the son of the previous Black Panther, was handed the robes of the High Priest of the Panther God, and a small and private ceremony was held that made him the Black Panther.

"Will this work?" Storm asked me as we left the temple.

The Wakandans were acting meek and submissive as M'Baku's armed men started to walk through the city. The sudden appearance of a possible claimant to the throne made M'Baku very uneasy. M'Baku still had yet to make his own appearance, only sending his men in his place instead. That was a stupid move done by a desperate man.

I love it when those happen.

"It will now," I told her. I gestured to the armed men. There were so few people M'Baku would trust to protect him. "That should be enough. . ."

A young man could stand the fact that those men pushed their way through the crowd of people like they were nothing to them. He held a knife in his hands, ready to attack, but I was there, restraining him as I gave him a very small shake of my head. The time was not right, and the violence was not needed. He had to relax and put away his weapon. Even through his rage, he could see that I was right.

The air around us was tense and charged. Anything could set anyone off, and it would be very bloody.

* * *

><p><em>(Taken from the transcript of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury's interrogations of active Agent John Garrett)<em>

**Fury:** Why were you in Wakanda?

**Garrett:** To make sure the new king wasn't going to start a war. That part of the world is very uneasy enough for us. Didn't want the new guy to add to it.

**Fury:** Under whose orders?

**Garrett:** Alexander Pierce.

**Fury:** Were you aware of what was about to happen?

**Garrett:** One of the local women would always talk to large groups of people. I couldn't really understand her. No one can. That wasn't taught at the Academy. She was some kind of holy woman, so it shouldn't have been too different.

**Fury:** So you didn't know what was happening?

**Garrett:** I may not have been able to understand what those people were saying, but I could tell that something was going to happen.

**Fury:** How so?

**Garrett:** It was the air around us. One stupid action by the new king or his men would make everyone snap, and it was going to be very bloody.

* * *

><p><em>(Taken from the transcript of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury's interrogations of active Agent Jasper Sitwell.)<em>

**Fury:** What cause it all?

**Sitwell:** _(silence)_

**Fury:** We know it wasn't your fault.

**Sitwell:** Right. _(Pause)._ M'Baku was. . .encouraged to make the law regarding sanctuary within the temples no good by some unknown third party. . .probably by the same rabble rousing young woman who wanted her own puppet ruler.

**Fury:** _(Pause)._ Just answer the question, Sitwell. I don't need your rationalizations and excuses.

**Sitwell:** M'Baku invaded the temple of the Black Panther or whatever they called it. He had many of the priests killed for refusing to bring out the dead king's son. He spilled the first blood. That was enough to make them snap.


	45. Chapter 44

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>M'Baku's men stormed into the temple to the Panther God, removing anyone they could find from from the holy sanctuary. Many of those priests were beaten, a very few were killed, because they refused to give up the location of their great high priest.<p>

The kill order had been given, and the men were about to act when rocks started to be thrown at them from the crowd that had surrounded them. The braver souls pulled the injured priests to safety to be tended to or the dying to give them their proper burial, and then it became crazy.

"Tie them up," Storm ordered. She didn't have her face covered.

Her icy blue eyes flashed like the lightning she could summon in an instant, and her snowy white hair blew around her in the wind that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. She was a sight to behold. Her eyes started to turn pure white as the sky darkened and thunder rumbled in the distance.

M'Baku's men froze in fear at the sound of her voice. Strom had grown up in the area, and when her powers developed, she was seen as a goddess made flesh. Just like those mythical beings, she had the power to grace many people or to punish them. His men knew her to be a force to be reckoned with.

The stronger Wakandan men tied them up, and they were not going anywhere anytime soon.

I didn't need to say anything. One of the priests of the Panther God stood straight and raised his hands over his head.

"This is not what happens here," he told the crowd. "Our king should protect us, never persecute us. M'Baku the Man-Ape is not our king. The land has rejected him. Look!"

Wakanda, like most of that part of the world, had been affected by a very warm and dry summer, and the rain from a couple nights before was the only rain they really had seen since the beginning of May. It was like the Earth herself was rejecting M'Baku being king.

"Black Panther," started to be chanted across the crowd. They had made their choice. They wanted the son of the man that they had lost.

What happened next was seen across that part of the world for the few years before that moment. There were demonstrations across Wakanda, and because they were the miners of the Vibranium, they had the tighter control over them to the point the mining basically stopped. No one wanted to attack them, knowing how much danger that could happen if those people had used the large supplies of the Vibranium against them in self-defense.

That was all that was really known by the general public.

* * *

><p><em>(Taken from the transcript of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury's interrogation of active Agent Jasper Sitwell).<em>

**Fury:** What happened the next day?

**Sitwell:** The man calling himself T'Challa walked into the capital city. He was dressed in the black robes of the Black Panther. He issued a challenge of trial by combat to M'Baku.

**Fury:** Was the challenge met?

**Sitwell:** No. I discouraged the king to risk his life in such a way.

**Fury:** What happened when the king refused?

**Sitwell:** That enraged the people even more. They were yelling and screaming, and things would have turned to violence. The King M'Baku realized he needed to fight T'Challa. That was the only way to protect the people from themselves.

**Fury:** _(Pause)._ What did you do?

**Sitwell:** _(Pause)._ I had Garrett in the sidelines ready to act when necessary.

* * *

><p>Me and Storm walked behind T'Challa, now wearing the black of the Cult of the Panther. The people around us bowed to T'Challa in deference and in awe. More respect was shown to him than really was ever shown to M'Baku from the moment he became king.<p>

"We are in the sacred halls built by our ancestors," T'Challa was proclaiming dramatically. "I Issued the Challenge."

Silence.

Then, M'Baku started to laugh. "No."

That created an uproar. A king must acknowledge the traditions of his people, whether he would like to or not. Their traditions were the only thing that kept the people of the capital city in check, but the moment M'Baku ignored tradition, a frenzy began to happen all around them. The tension became thick, and many people were so close to attacking him.

Garrett made his appearance then. He didn't look to good, even though he was pretty angry about the mines not working.

"Get your people to working those mines," Garrett remarked, screaming over the people of the crowd. "This isn't the deal we made when we helped place you on that throne."

I saw Sitwell place his face in his hands. Even he knew that shouldn't have been said out loud.

I made eye contact with Storm, and we walked towards M'Baku. The thunder crashed loudly as Storms eyes became white. The wind began to whip around the palace, blowing the colors of the Man-Ape's people to the ground.

"He is not the true king," Storm proclaimed. "He sought the help of Outsiders. . .and they weren't marked as Friends to the People."

The wind died down, and the closest people ripped off the kingly objects that marked M'Baku's status. He was led out of the palace in disgrace as he was forced to ready himself for the Challenge. People spat at him and hurled insults and curses at him.

The Challenge began when T'Challa faced M'Baku. The Man-Ape was taller and bigger, and the fight would have already been decided just by looking at the two of them. But, T'Challa was scrappier than he looked. His father was a great warrior, and he taught his son how to be one of the world's greatest warriors. T'Challa was the victor of the Challenge, and he was proclaimed the King and Protector of Wakanda.

The High Priestess of the Cult of the Lion, and T'Challa's mother, intoned the words in Ancient Wakandan that were that marked M'Baku Man-Ape's exile from Wakanda for as long as he had lived. A fate worse than death for someone who only knew the Jungles of Wakanda as home.

That was all that had happened. M'Baku was revealed to be S.H.I.E.L.D.'s lackey, so he was removed as king in the end. The people of Wakanda chose the son of the previous king, T'Challa, as their king.

There were people who thought that Wakanda lost its chance to become a democracy. They didn't really understand Wakanda like they felt they did. Wakanda still chose its king even though it remained a traditional monarchy.

* * *

><p><em>(Taken from the transcript of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury's interrogation of active Agent John Garrett)<em>

**Fury:** Sitwell said he had it all planned out.

**Garrett:** _(laughter)_ Sitwell had no idea what the hell was going on. There was a fight, but it was a joke. We tried to get it to stop, but they were incensed by some native woman. We're lucky we're still alive. I'd love to hear how he would spin it to make him look good. _(more laughter)_

**Fury:** Who were the women?

**Garrett:** The older one was T'Challa's girlfriend or something. Didn't really think to ask him about that. She was a mutant. _(Pause)_ Not sure about the younger one. She never really showed her face.

**Fury:** They still trusted her?

**Garrett:** Of course they would. She had the tattoo of a Friend of Wakanda. . .or something.

_(Both Agent John Garrett and Agent Jasper Sitwell were asked the same question)_

**Fury:** Why were you trying to control the Vibranium mines in Wakanda?

_(Both Agents gave the same answer)_

"Following orders."

* * *

><p>T'Challa was crowned king, and the good news was spread across Wakanda, creating a massive celebration. Any of Sitwell's men were realizing they were in a pretty dangerous situation, so they probably quickly left, understanding that they were not welcome anywhere in Wakanda.<p>

I found him looking at the final resting place of his father. That was the one time he could even allow himself to grieve over the death of his father, but he wasn't alone. Storm was at his side, holding one of his hands and talking to him. It was an old and very close friendship that would always stand the test of time. Maybe it would grow into something more. I left them alone, understanding that they needed their moment alone.

I walked around the city, covered in all black, so I wasn't even noticed by the celebrating people around me. That was how I heard the voice of a fellow American speaking on the phone with someone else.

"They ruined it all," he was saying. "There's a new king 'chosen by the people!'" That part was said in a more mocking tone. I knew that voice. It belonged to an annoying S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who barely followed Steve's orders during the insanity that was Washing D.C. during that summer.

He wisely stayed close to the shadows, being one of the most hated outsiders in Wakanda who tried to take the country. Something was going to happen. They were the type of people who didn't take to losing something pretty big well. That was why he was making that strange phone call.

"The harsh winter should solve this."

Somehow, I knew what that had meant, and I went back to the palace.

"Your life's in danger," I told T'Challa. "They'll send someone after you."

"That is to be expected." T'Challa was surprisingly calm about that.

He went to some strange weapons that were made from Vibranium, and he made sure I had some of the weapons.

We were ready for the harshness of the Russian Winter.


	46. Chapter 45

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Everything was very quiet, and I knew the shadows could hold anything. My actions in getting the throne of Wakanda back for T'Challa pissed off very powerful people who knew the right type of people, so they sent some kind of assassin after us. There were people deep within S.H.I.E.L.D. who wanted control over the large deposit of Vibranium reported to only be found in Wakanda.<p>

My grip tightened around the very light and ancient Wakandan sword as I scanned for any sign of movement deep within the shadows. None of us really slept that uneasy night. Anything could have happened.

Nothing really did, though. Those powerful people didn't send the Russian Winter Soldier to Wakanda. I think they recognized they needed to worry and deal with something else at that time. That was when I realized they were dealing with other things while working as a powerful government agency whose sole purpose was to protect the people around the world.

I was starting to realize maybe there was more to what was going on in the world around me than we really knew or understood.

We were out of the palace, and a gunshot filled the night air. Since I couldn't even walk in a straight line, I was the one who was shot in the shoulder, and as I fell to the ground, I took T'Challa with me to the ground. The night air became very foggy that shooting at us would have been very impossible.

For awhile, all I could really focus on was the pain in my shoulder and watching the blood start to pool up from the wound. I passed out both from the pain and some blood loss.

When I slowly regained consciousness, I could only barely understand what T'Challa was saying to some kind of doctor named Hank Pym. He was a renowned scientist a few decades ago, and he was much much smarter than people realized. Like Reed Richards, he saw the world much differently than most people. He was the type of person who learned medicine even if he didn't really need to. Pym wanted to be the person who could say he could unlock the secrets of the universe between surgeries. He was also pretty arrogant most of the time, but I'm starting to think that may have been well deserved.

My shoulder was tightly wrapped, but I could still feel that dull pain that throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I started to swear very loudly, barely able to tolerate that kind of pain.

"She needs more of the pain reliever," Storm said, understanding what was going on. Because of my genetic make-up, I needed more of any kind of medication than normal people, even after losing my powers.

"She's fine," Hank Pym brushed her aside, and he barely looked at me.

She looked at me, silently asking permission, and I gave her a small nod of acceptance. "No, she's not. Her great-grandparents were the Human Torch and Spitfire. That small dose you gave her has already completely burned away."

There was something about Storm that made people listen to her. It was pretty clear she was a force to be reckoned with. Pym had to obey her. I watched as he gave me another, larger, dose, and I didn't feel the pain anymore, closing my eyes.

* * *

><p>When I woke up a second time, the pain was long gone, and Storm was nowhere to be found.<p>

"You know more than you are letting on," T'Challa remarked to me.

"Yeah. I guess," I told him, sitting up in the small bed. "We don't fully trust authority." I thought for a moment. "Let's just say I can't really tell you yet."

"And why is that?"

"Not just yet," I said. "Because I'm planning something, and it'll only work if they don't think I know anything."

"A true Chessmaster."

I made a face at him. "Not yet."

He shook his head. "You removed the outside presence and gave me back the throne without shedding any Wakandan blood. It takes a true Chessmaster to do that."

"That's more my grandma Tjaden," I replied, and I painlessly shrugged. "I fly by the seat of my pains mostly. Making stuff up as I go along."

"Whenever you need it," T'Challa told me as he helped me to where Storm had the jet, and there she was getting it ready to fly away. "You will have my help. No matter what it would be."

* * *

><p>I wasn't home for very long when my mom checked my shoulder, trying to make sure that I was alright, and that my shoulder will heal alright and I could still use it. She studied the older and newer markings on my left wrist to show that I was one as well, and she looked proud. My mom was not the type of person who would condone violence. She was more proud of my nonviolent demonstrations in Wakanda than my work with the Avengers in New York.<p>

That was when I realized I could still do something like that. Billy was still involved with the Brotherhood of Mutants, trying to create a better tomorrow for our kind through violence if possible. It was the beginning of my own nonviolent movement.

Because me and Lauren were going to be in D.C. that whole next school year, I knew I could easily make a scene if not our point.

Lauren was the one who chose the name for our movement. She thought the Children of the Atom sounded fit to be the name of a movement whose membership was not going to be only Mutants but for anyone who believed that civil rights and liberties should be for all people, no matter who or what they were.

It was going to be a very long, difficult and sometimes dangerous road for the two of us, but we were willing to take that type of chance. This was our fight, and we wanted our voices out there to quell Magneto's and his Brotherhood and the people who outright hated Mutants and what they could mean.

There was a powerful southern Baptist minister, the younger brother of William Stryker, Jr., who headed the most vocal proponents of Anti-Mutant feelings. The nicest thing he could say about us was the fact we followed Satan and his armies of darkness, so we could have those strange powers. People actually believed him, taking the ultraconservative road during the time of great upheaval and crisis. This was our world even during a time of great change, advancement, and what should be a great time of acceptance. This should have been the time to be alive and be yourself without fearing persecution and ridicule.

Leave it to a Stryker to ruin all of that.

* * *

><p>It had been a week before Steve was back in the area, and when he came into the house, I could tell that he was not happy at all. He was looking at my wrapped and slowly healing shoulder.<p>

"You were in Wakanda?" He asked me, and I nodded. "You were in a very dangerous -"

"I might have created that," I admitted, interrupting him. He should have known better.

"Without your powers?" He finished.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't need my powers when I'm smarter than my enemy." I showed my new tattoos. "And, I had this when I was there. No one would have done me any harm."

Steve took a gentle hold of my wrist to study the strange markings like he was trying to see how that would have been able to keep me safe.

"You were still shot in the shoulder."

"Well, it's done," I told him, brushing it aside. "It's in the past. How 'bout we don't dwell on it?"

Steve breathed out through his nose as he lost his grip on my wrist. He looked up and close his eyes, clearly trying to keep himself from saying anything to make me mad. I think he was starting to see I would jump into anything without hesitation if I think it's necessary. That was something I learned from my mother and everyone in her family.

He looked down at me after awhile, and I could still see that worry for me. That was why he was so angry with me.

"You really need to be careful," he told me.

"I kept my face covered."

"That's not what I meant," he told me, shaking his head at me. "One of these days, your luck will run out."

"I'll be fine."

He was looking into my eyes, and there was something about them that made it very impossible for me to be able to look away from him. His hands gently gripped my upper arms to have me look at him, and I wasn't ever going to pull away from him like I should. Whatever boundaries we had were long gone by that point, and we both knew it.

"I don't want to lose you," he told me, his voice very quiet that I was surprised I could actually hear him.

That was when I couldn't really look him in the eyes. There was something within them that made me feel as weak as I was after I unleashed my full power. That moment made me feel uncomfortable, and I wasn't really ready to talk about anything like that. I would much rather change the subject than really speak about it. It was far too much for me to be able to handle.

I took a step back from him, still not making eye contact with him.

"I'll be fine, Steve," I told him, and there was something about my voice that made me realize I was trying to plead with him to understand. "You taught me."

"I know," he told me. "I know, but you're not like most people. I can't lose you. . .the world can't lose you. . ."

"That last part. . ." I told him. "You're only saying that as a team member."

"Why do you always do that?" Steve asked me.

"Do what?" I asked.

"Put yourself down like that."

"I don't," I replied, giving him a strange look.

"You do," he told me. "All the time."

"Whatever," I told him. "I never done anything to deserve that kind of greatness, so I can and will say whatever the hell I want."

"You don't take the credit," he told me. "Or at least, you barely do."

I pressed my lips together for a moment. "No one would ever give me the chance."

That was one of the few times I would admit that out loud, much less to him.

Steve pulled me to him, and he tightly hugged me for that moment. We both closed our eyes. He gave me a light kiss on my forehead.

"I'll give you that chance," he told me. "But, you need to be alive for that to happen."


	47. Chapter 46

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>It was the last couple weeks of summer, and since the manager liked getting paid but hated getting paid, so I worked for her pretty much all day everyday. I was able to work with a few close friends, so we had fun joking around with each other and singing to the music blaring from the speakers.<p>

There was one day when it was cool and rainy, so no one showed up. We didn't really care, though. I don't know what we were doing when Steve showed up, but he still looked to be pretty amused when he saw us.

"You guys get paid for this?" He asked, but his eyes were bright with the laughter.

"It's almost three," Janet said, only looking at her phone. "We'll be gone soon. Thank God."

"What are you and Becca doing?" Lauren asked. She gave me a knowing smirk, so I was tempted to stick my tongue out at her. I didn't.

"We're gonna watch _Star Wars_," I told her.

"Ugh. Why?" Janet asked.

"I never saw them," Steve said. "And, she promised to help me."

Janet and Lauren looked at each other before starting to snort. I rolled my eyes at them.

"Really?" I asked.

"She's clueless when it comes to most current events," Janet explained for Steve's benefit.

"Am not," I said, almost childishly. That's what happened with the Sisterhood. We cannot really act our age sometimes.

"North West," Janet said with a very straight face. "Who's North West?"

"I don't know," I said, rolling my eyes at them again. "Don't care. . ."

"We've been asking her everyday this week," Lauren explained. "And, she still hasn't figured it out."

"I did," I said. "That's Kanye West's kid."

"We're still going to make fun of you," Janet told me before looking back at Steve. "I'm so sorry. We tried."

"I don't waste my time with trivial information," I replied. "That's considered trivial information."

"You're only saying that because we proved you don't know everything," Lauren said.

"You don't have to gloat about it," I replied.

My phone went off, and I walked out of the guardhouse as I answered it. It was Nate updating me on what was happening.

"He has me talking to this chick who's obsessed about flower dresses," he told me. Then he shuddered. "She's a horrible person. Worse than even him, and that's saying a lot."

"He's arrogant and afraid of death," I remarked. "That's not scary. That's pitiful. It's only when someone has a particular agenda or goal in mind is when you should be concerned."

"That's her," he said. "She has some sort of operation going on with desperate people. Former soldiers and men who were just fired from their jobs and can't get their work. She's experimenting on them with some sort of serum thing. . .Erskine's formula. . .gamma radiation. . .Extremis. . ."

"That's insane!" I said before I started swearing in Cajun. "Like that won't blow up in their faces."

"Yeah," Nate agreed. "He studies her notes obsessively."

"I think. . .I might know why," I said, remembering what my grandma said about him after something really traumatic happened to him, something that drastically changed who he was loyal to. I noticed Steve was there, trying to listen to what I was talking about. "Okay. . .I should probably go. . .good luck. . ."

"Is everything okay?" Steve asked me.

"Will be," I said, before walking past him, but he grabbed my arm to stop me.

"I know you were talking to Nate Summers," he told me.

"So?" I asked, not really getting what he was telling me at the time.

"So. . ." He drew the word out, looking away from me for a moment.

"Wait. . .whoah. . .whoah. . ." I said when I finally understood him. "It's not like that. Him and Maggie have a thing, so he's a friend, and our dads were good friends when they were in high school and college."

He accepted it, mostly, and he shook his head. "Sorry. . ."

I accepted the apology, but I wore this little mischievous smile I usually save for the Sisterhood.

"You were jealous," I told him.

He was going to shake his head and deny it, but he stopped himself. "A little."

"I don't do that sort of thing," I told him, being serious. "You can always trust me."

* * *

><p>We watched the older <em>Star Wars<em> movies first and in the end, I had my head on his shoulder, and he rather awkwardly, tried to wrap an arm around me as he watched those movies. I'm really not sure how much time had past when my mom called for me from upstairs.

I was quickly off the couch and halfway up the stairs by the time Steve was able to pause the movie to be able to follow me.

My mom was talking to Alexander Pierce, trying to be polite and disguising her learned disgust. She was good, but she paled in comparison to grandma.

"I know about your connections with Wakanda through the old king," Pierce was saying to her almost as an accusation.

"And. . .?" My mom was saying.

"The king who succeeded him had no reason to tolerate the Friends chosen by the dead king," Pierce was telling her. "Self-interest can motivate. . "

My mom made a fierce hand gesture that made him become very silent. "He would have been a tyrant, Mr. Pierce. I remember him from when I was there, and he would have made Stalin seem like a kindergarten teacher." She paused a moment, noticing that he was not really caring about that, so she needed to choose the right words for me. "There would have been nothing that would have stopped him from turning his eyes to the U.S."

I walked back to Dad's office to grab the folder that T'Challa made sure that I had before I left Wakanda, and I gave it to Pierce.

"It's all here," I said, sickly sweet and speaking in the southern accent I picked up from my mom.

He grabbed my left arm to study the strange patterns. "And, how did you get this?'

"I'm awesome."

"It's handed down through families," Mom told him. "She is old enough to bear the responsibility and traditions to aid Wakanda when she can."

He seemed to accept that, but he knew he couldn't argue with anything we told him. Pierce was savvy enough to not implicate himself in anything shady even if he was mad about it.

Pierce tried to have a polite conversation with my mom, but she started to make herself yawn. She claimed exhaustion and an early work day the next morning, so she was able to disappear.

"Is your grandmother home?" Pierce asked me, but I shook my head.

"She's been in Rochester awhile," I told him. "You know. . .her stem cell treatment."

"Oh. . .right. . ." He told me. "Well. . .give her my regards."

He was gone, and I narrowed my eyes as I watched his car drive away. I was starting to see why my grandma didn't really trust him. He was pretty slimy. Pierce didn't really seem like that at first, but the more one would get to know him, the more one would be able to see his true self. It wasn't that pretty.

Steve lightly touched my shoulder, drawing me back into reality. I looked up at him to see some his concern for me.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you okay?" He asked me.

"I'm fine," I told him. "I was just thinking about something." I shook my head as if to clear it and to show I was changing the subject. I grabbed one of his hands, and started to walk back into the house. "We're still not done with the movies."

Steve was sitting with his arm around my shoulders, and I ended up watching the movies with my head against his chest.

Billy walked into the basement, and when he saw us, he started to deliberately make as much noise as he could. We pulled apart when we realized he was there. I made a face at my brother, but he only smirked at me in response.

"Tyler called," he told me. "You should really turn on the news."

"Why?" Steve asked him.

"Just turn on the news."

I fumbled with the remote and turned on the news. We watched construction cranes line up with each other to help a mysterious figure in red and blue swing across the city to fight some lizard monster in the streets of New York City.

"Since when do the teamsters willingly help someone?" Steve asked out loud.

We watched the mysterious figure create a large web to save a young girl from falling to her death. He destroyed some sort of device and shot several needles at the giant lizard, and it slowly turned back into an unconscious scientist with one arm.

"They would if they were talking to a hero," I said. "Spiderman."

Billy was making a face. "That's what Tyler said, too." He looked between me and Steve. "You spend too much time with him."

"So?" I asked, challenging him, smiling at Steve before turning back to narrow my eyes at my brother.

"So. . ." It was pretty clear he was reaching for any kind of excuse for me. "You're starting to sound like him. . ."

Steve checked his phone, making a face. "Stark wants to talk to me. I need to go."

He gave me a light kiss and hug before he was gone.

My brother's arms were crossed. "Glad he's gone." I stuck my tongue out at him. "Tyler wanted you to call him back."

"Why?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Something about the Heroes for Hire."


	48. Chapter 47

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Tyler met me at a sort of private airport that Tony let me have access to. He would always scan around him with a very suspicious eye. Someone must have been following him and some of the people of his group, and he thought that someone was a part of S.H.I.E.L.D.<p>

He grabbed my bag as we started walking side by side. "I'm glad you can make it."

"No problem," I told him. "I probably needed to come here anyway."

"Good luck trying to find him," Tyler told me, completely understanding why I wanted to be in New York City at that particular moment.

"I would look where people don't really bother to look," I told him.

"Still. . ." Tyler said. "Good luck with that."

He led me to a waiting car which we both climbed into the back. In the driver's seat was a taller and more muscular African American man, wearing a navy blue stocking cap and a yellow sweatshirt, and all he was doing was staring off into space front of him, barely giving me some kind of greeting. The young man in the seat next to him had sunglasses that covered most of his face, but I could tell he had lighter brown hair and was a little warmer than his friend.

"I thought she'd be taller," the first guy told me.

"She's the shortest of us," Tyler commented, and I hit him in the side with my elbow.

"I don't need to be tall," I defended myself.

The first man was looking at me with narrowed eyes. "Didn't you saw she lost her powers?"

I winced, but I did nod. There was no need to argue with him.

"Yeah," Tyler said, not really wanting to talk to me. He felt like he betrayed me.

"Don't always need my powers," I told them. "All I need to do was be smarter than them."

We were in Hell's Kitchen, and the car was parked nearby a supposedly abandoned building. As we walked into the building, all four of us scanned the streets around us, looking for that agent who had been following them.

Nothing.

There was a woman with dark, curly hair and chocolate skin, and one of her arms appeared to be robotic. The quieter of the two men softened a lot when she appeared.

"I'm Misty Knight," she told me as we shook hands. "I oversee these heroes."

"Tyler barely mentioned you," I told her, and she nodded, almost smiling.

"It was my idea," another woman said. She had light brown hair and slightly tanned skin, and the first man softened a little too when he saw her. "Your connections are. . ."

"Yeah, yeah. . ." I told her, waving that aside. I could understand the suspicion. "So. . .what's been bothering you?"

"There's a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent following us," the quieter man, Iron First (I later learned he was called Daniel Rand), explained. "And, normally we wouldn't have a problem with it."

"Speak for yourself," the gruffer man, Power Man (he was also known as Luke Cage, but I don't think that was his real name), remarked.

"Something's not right with them," I said, talking about the organization in vague terms. "Anyway. . .do you know what he's doing?"

"Taking notes. . .I don't know. . ." The other woman, Ariel (Jessica Jones) said. "It doesn't seem right."

I nodded and went to look out of the window, and I could see some solitary figure in the distance, watching the building rather intently. He seemed familiar.

* * *

><p>I walked around the city streets, being unnoticed by everyone around me. It was unseasonably cool that summer, so I was able to wear a sweatshirt without getting strange looks from the people around me. It rained off and on, so I wasn't really the only one wearing a hood to keep most of the rain out of the face.<p>

Up ahead of me was a man wearing a black suit and talking on his phone. He was following Luke as he made his rounds around the neighborhood he called home. I still couldn't see what the point of following him even was. There was a reason for it, that much was clear, and I had the feeling it wasn't good. The agent seemed to be waiting for something to happen. I walked a little close to him, still being unnoticed.

"So far," the voice of Jasper Sitwell was saying. "None of them are doing anything. There's no proof."

I paid closer attention to him when I heard that. Jasper Sitwell was getting weirder and weirder the more time that passed. It was so hard for me to believe he was that type of person, which probably made him the perfect type of person to change sides or something like that. I always thought he would be the type of person who joined S.H.I.E.L.D. to help people, as many as possible, but that wasn't really the case, I guess.

I heard enough.

* * *

><p>"You need to find a new place," I told the small group later that night.<p>

"Why?" Misty asked me.

"It'll probably be better if you don't know," I said, grimacing for their benefit. "Let's just say there are some people in S.H.I.E.L.D. who like to take advantage of their power."

"He followed us all the time," Luke told me. "How are we going to pull that off?"

I actually smirked at him, and I started to speak in the perfect imitation of my mother's Southern accent. "I got something up my sleeve."

* * *

><p>Since he had first appeared, no one was sure how to find Spiderman, and that was probably for the best with everything that was starting to happen around the world.<p>

I'm still not sure how it happened, but I was somehow able to find him. Or maybe. . .he found me. However it had happened, I was able to meet and talk to him.

"Wait. . .I know you," Spiderman told me, and I was pretty surprised at how young he sounded.

"I doubt it," I replied. "I think I would recognize the kid wearing. . .a red and blue jumpsuit."

"Funny," Spiderman replied. "You're one of the Avengers."

I started to feel a little uncomfortable when he said it. That always happened when so many people showed so much adoration over the fact I was in New York on That Day.

"Probably not for very long," I told him, shaking my head likt that never really mean anything. "But, that's not really important right now." He was going to say something about that, but I only shook my head, not really wanting to go into what's happening. "Anyway. . .I could use your help."

"With what?" He asked. I could tell he narrowed his eyes at me from behind his mask that completely covered his face.

I handed him a picture of Agent Sitwell on my phone. "Distract him for me, please."

"We just met. . ." He told me, and I knew that he was wondering why I would trust him.

"There's something about you that let's me trust you," I told him. "Don't waste it."

"You're the first."

I shook my head. "No, not really, and I have a feeling I won't be the last."

"And, you're only saying that to get me to help you."

I laughed a little. "That too."

* * *

><p>They were gathered together, or at least the ones I knew about, and some of them weren't happy. I was starting to think that nothing made those two happy. Tyler nodded to me.<p>

"This is somewhere completely off the grid," I told them, sliding a paper with the address of the new headquarters deep in Hell's Kitchen. Grandma gave me her blessing to give them that safehouse of her. "My grandma had several of these across the world during her time on active duty for S.H.I.E.L.D., and this was one of the many places her superiors never really knew about."

"What are you going to do about the agent?" Jessica asked me, still as suspicious as ever.

"Got that covered," I told her. "Know somebody."

"I got my roommate to join in the chaos, too," Tyler said.

"Whatever you do," Misty warned. "Don't get Stark involved."

"I'm not," I told her. "I do know more people than that."

When me and Tyler walked out of the meeting, I pulled out my cellphone to call my grandma. She needed to know about what I found out.

"How is Tyler?" She asked me.

"He looks good," I said.

"Good," she told me. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Sitwell."

That was all I needed to say for her to be able to understand me. I could tell she wasn't happy about that.

"Record some of the conversations you hear," she told me. "Proof for Nick." She was silent for a moment. "This was what I feared. . .a high level agent with a lot of connections. . ."

"I know, Gramma," I said, meaning every word I told her. "I know."

"He mentioned something," I told her. "During the conversation. . .about Project Insight," I told her. "He wanted Spiderman and Tyler's group to be on it."

"I talked to Nick about it," she said, voice icy cold. "That's not what it's supposed to be used for."

"What is it?" I asked, bracing myself for the answer.

"Eliminate potential threats from the population," she told me. "Terrorists, mostly, before they would act."

"Or people who could cause them problems in the future," I told her. "Eliminate potential threats. . .or people who couldn't be controlled."


	49. Chapter 48

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>It started with each one of us only gathering important things, and we buried them into bags, just in case. What we only made sure to take with us were client records and employee records. Pretty much what S.H.I.E.L.D. would have loved to have in their possession. Once the records were well hidden, we took turns leaving the building going in separate directions to take winding paths to their new base of operations.<p>

I was wearing a wig and big sunglasses and baggy clothing. I was completely unrecognizable.

Sitwell tried to follow every one of us, but he could be in more than one place at the same time. He didn't look too happy. It looked like he recognized me, so he started only following me because I had always been a very slow walker. I may or may not have started to swear in Cajun under my breath. At least he ignored the others.

Spiderman swung overhead of us, doing three flips before he landed on the ground close by.

"Show off," I muttered, rolling my eyes as I started to smile a little bit at his antics.

Sitwell stopped walking long enough to look at him, and he was both working to keep his anger and disgust from really showing.

"So. . ." Spiderman drew the word out. "Come here often?"

"This is a S.H.I.E.L.D. matter," Sitwell said, trying to keep everything under control.

He was still scanning around them, looking for the others, but strangely, the streets were very empty. A strange thing to happen during the daylight hours in New York City.

"This is a Spiderman matter," Spiderman quickly replied. "Can't you see all of the webs?"

"I order you. . ." But, he couldn't really finish his sentence.

A young man dressed in all green was running down the street, and when he held his hands up in front of him, he created mini tornadoes that ripped all over the place. Making sure that they didn't destroy too much.

"Maybe you should make yourself scarce," Spiderman said, giving him a chance, but it was pretty clear Sitwell wasn't really going to listen to him.

Spiderman swung out of his hands, and the webbing wrapped around the agent. Sitwell couldn't really break free, the webbing was that strong. Spiderman started to drag the agent after him as the young man in green walked on. The young man slowed down enough to wink at me, so I checked my phone.

"Spidey knows," Tyler texted me.

"They're having way too much fun," I texted back, watching the oddest duo ever walk down the streets.

"Sounds about right."

* * *

><p>We were in the new headquarters for the Heroes for Hire, and Jessica had the television on to see the news.<p>

"Today was the scene of a strange. . ." Even the reporter had no idea how to describe what had just happened. She looked a little lost when she looked behind her. "Teenagers. . ." She shook her head.

Spiderman was "fighting" Tyler's roommate while swinging Sitwell around to make sure he wasn't in danger. It was the most ridiculous sight you would ever see. I placed my face in my hands, feeling incredibly embarrassed over that being my idea. This was actually worse than anything my classmates would do. And, that was saying a lot.

"I hope Jacob or Dean's not taking any notes," I muttered to a laughing Tyler.

"Oh. . .they are. . ." He said, still laughing, and he's actually crying. "They are. . ."

"I was afraid of that. . ." I muttered, rolling my eyes again.

"That was pretty funny. . ." Luke said, still chuckling. "You two were behind that?"

Tyler shook his head. "She was."

"What of it?" I snapped.

Luke Cage was still chuckling. "He won't be a problem. You just embarrassed the guy. They're going to be careful about sending that guy anywhere."

"Yeah. . ." I said, acting like it had been in the works the whole time.

Tyler gave me a knowing look. "Yeah."

"You know what, Tyler?" Luke said, heavily patting his shoulder. Tyler grimaced with each pat on the shoulder, but he was still not trying to say anything about that. "Your cousin's not that bad."

"I told you. . ." Tyler said, quickly stepping away from him. "She decided to trust you, so she'd do anything to help you."

I became uncomfortable about that, and I rolled my eyes. "She's also right here."

"So?" Tyler replied, not even caring about that as he turned his attention back to his friend. "She'll move heaven and earth, if she has to in order to help you."

The of the heroes that I knew about were please to hear about what Tyler had told them about me. Each one respectfully shook my hand, and they pretty much told me I would have their help and the help from many of the others whenever I needed it.

* * *

><p>Tyler and I walked back to the private air strip of Tony's, and I spent most of the time glaring at my cousin over what he had told the founding members of the Heroes for Hire.<p>

"What?" He asked me, very innocently. Too innocently.

"You know what."

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Everything I said was completely true."

"You didn't need to say it."

"And, you needed to hear it."

I rolled my eyes and scowled back at Tyler, but I couldn't really say anything back to him. What could I have said back to him? He was very right.

As we walked back to the jet, we saw Steve waiting by it with Nick Fury and Natasha Romanoff.

"Yep. . ." Tyler remarked. "You're on your own now. See ya!"

That was the fastest I have ever seen him run. I could only mutter about him under my breath, trying to see how much trouble I was going to be in.

"Fancy seeing y'all here," I spoke in a Southern accent, trying to sound very innocent, but I could tell Steve saw through that act. He had crossed his arms as he narrowed his eyes at me.

"You've been busy," Natasha told me. "Wakanda and now this. . ."

I shrugged. "There's really nothing to do in Iowa if you a goody goody."

Steve walked towards me, eyes narrowed as he scrutinized me. "Really?"

"Yep," I told him. "That's what I'm telling you right now. You'll know more later."

Steve shook his head. "Why?"

"Not time yet," I told him before I quickly changed the subject. "It's nice to see you, but I thought you were busy with something."

"I was," he told me. "But, someone wants to talk to you."

"I'm not talking to Sitwell,"I told him. "I have no idea what happened."

He gave me a look, and he shook his head. "You know what? I should ask you what that means, but for some reason, I don't think I want to know the answer. A prisoner wanted to talk to you."

"Why would Magneto want to talk to me?" I asked in confusion.

"He didn't say," Steve answered, just as confused as me. "But, since you're here. . ."

"Meh," I told him. "I might as well."

* * *

><p>I sat with Steve as we were taken to the undisclosed location of a maximum security S.H.I.E.L.D. prison. Magneto wasn't there because they were worried about his powers. They knew he was given the weaponized mutant cure at the beginning of the summer. They were more worried about what his followers would do to get him out of the prison.<p>

I remember seeing all of that metal within the prison and especially his prison. It would've been considered cruel if I didn't think it was incredibly stupid.

"What if he gets his powers back?" I asked.

"He won't get his powers back," Natasha told me. "You should know that."

I scowled at her, but I wasn't going to say anything back to her. Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulders, trying to be some kind of support for me, and I thought it was a sign of weakness if I accepted it. I shrugged his arm away.

"You can't cure your eye or hair color," I finally snapped back at her. "You can only cover it all up."

Steve went to walk with me as I went to speak with Magneto, but Natasha stopped him, shaking her head.

"He only wants to talk to her," she told him.

"That never happens," Steve replied, full of concern for me over what could happen if I talked with the leader of a powerful terrorist group.

"He won't hurt her," Natasha said. "And. . .the Chessmaster pulled some strings. She will talk to him alone."

"And, she can hear everything you two are saying," I muttered just loud enough for them to hear and give me a strange look. "What?"

"If you feel threatened in any way. . ." Steve said to me.

"I understand," I told him before I walked into the private meeting room.

Magneto was chained to his chair, and he wore the plain white prison jump suit. He had very dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was pale and hair very messy. It had been a long couple of months for him as well as me. I laid my cell phone on the table between us and hit "record."

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked him.

"My children," he told me. "Wanda and Pietro. I know they're in danger."

He gestured to a picture that most people would have made sure he could never get into the room, but my grandma was able to pull the right strings.

"This was taken before they completely disappeared," he told me.

Garrett was in the picture, and he was leading the two of them away. That couldn't be good. Wands was the only powerful one, but she refused to do anything unless she had her brother's support. If you had them both, then who knows what you could do?

I looked back up at him after I folded the picture to put in my pocket.

"I want. . .need you to help them," he told me. "You'll have the help and support of my closest of followers."

I asked him for the contact information for Raven Darkholme, just in case, and he gave me the information.

"I'll do everything in my power to help them," I promised to him. That could have a double meaning if you listened to it very carefully.

"That is all I can even ask of you."


	50. Chapter 49

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I walked out of my little meeting with Magneto, realizing there was much more going on in the world than I realized. It was what my grandma feared would happen when she left active S.H.I.E.L.D. duty in the early seventies. Mutants would be taken to be their greatest weapons, and nobody would care. All because they're Mutants.<p>

It looked like there was going to be another part to what I was working on. I needed to call my grandma and tell her. My trip to New York City was much more enlightening than I could have ever guessed.

Steve gave me a look when he was able to see me when I left the meeting room.

"are you okay? He asked me. he sounded very concerned for me.

"Yeah," I told him. "I'm alright. Just thinking about something."

"Why did he want to talk to you?" He asked me.

I shrugged. "I can't read minds. ' I paused for a moment. "I might tell you sometime later."

"What?" steve asked me with some confusion. "Either you know or you don't."

"Let me talk to my grandma," I told him. "And, ask her if I can tell you."

He gave me a strange look, and he wasn't happy about what I told him.

"Why?"

"You mean -" I shook my head. "She's been involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. in her own way since she graduated from St. Olaf in the early sixties. Ask around. . .then you'll see why I needed to ask my Grandma first."

He pressed his lips together and shook his head, and I could tell he still wasn't happy.

"What are you planning?" He asked me.

"Survival," I told him. "You should know that."

"Why do I feel like you're lying to me?" He quietly asked me.

"Because. . ." I told him, and I felt a little, showing Steve what I was really feeling, and he could tell I felt horrible and conflicted. "It's not just. . .it's not really my secret to tell. I need the permission and stuff."

Steve shook his head again. Steve trusted me enough to believe me when I told him he would know everything when the time was right.

He gently squeezed my hand before we left the building. "I'll hold you to that."

I snorted. "I know you will." There was a long pause. "What did Tony want to talk to you about?"

"About us," Steve told me. "and, how we'll move forward with S.H.I.E.L.D. not wanting our group around."

The way he said that, I could tell that he didn't really trust S.H.I.E.L.D., no matter how much he would really work to make it possible again. It had been a long and difficult two years for him, as well.

"Still do it," I told him. "People need us."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't want us," he said us.

"They don't know everything," I told him, earning another look from him. "They're a very bureaucratic system, and they take much longer to agree about what they're going to do. You can take advantage of that."

"That's what Stark told me," Steve remarked.

"I didn't really tell you this," I told him quietly, so Natasha or Fury wouldn't be able to hear me. "there are groups out there who do take advantage of the bureaucratic system." I paused a moment. "And, it's not just me or my friends."

"Is that why you're here?" Steve asked me when we were in our own car.

"My cousin needed my help," I told him. "And, I kinda helped."

I caught a red and blue movement out of the corner of my eye, and I sat back in my seat. Steve also noticed the movement.

"Stark and Banner talked to this prisoner," he explained to me. "They said he was a scientist until recently."

"What happened?" I asked him, not really sure if I even wanted to know what had happened.

"He was desperate to find something to grow his arm back When he thought he found the solution, he tested it on himself."

They way he told the tragic story, I could tell that he felt a lot of pity for the scientist. That made me like him even more.

"It didn't really go well for him," I muttered. "What was his name?"

"Dr. Curt Conners," he told me, and I made a mental note about that name. I was going to look into that name

We completely changed the subject, then. It became too serious then, and I think Steve realized there were some things I refused to really say anything more about what I was working on. I rested my head on his shoulder, my eyes closing a little. They could barely stay open. I couldn't fall asleep the night before.

"How late were you up last night?" Steve asked me.

"I don't know," I told him. "Actually. . .I don't really remember even falling asleep. . ."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Maybe if you cut back on all of the soda you drink, you'll be amazed at how easily you can fall asleep."

"Pop's like water to me now," I told him. "But, that's not it. New York's too loud. I don't like it."

"You'll get used to it."

"I don't wanna."

"Give it a chance," he quietly told me.

I looked up at him, giving him a smile which he could only focus on. "For you."

Steve actually looked a little shocked at what I told him. His eyes widened a little, and, probably without even realizing it, he lightly squeezed me closer to him.

He just as quickly snapped back into reality. "What?"

"I'll give it a chance," I told him, still smiling for him. "For you."

He lightly brushed a couple of his fingers across my face, making me close my eyes. When the vehicle stopped, he went to give me a light kiss of goodbye.

"I'm going to Washington soon," he quietly told me. "Easier to work with S.H.I.E.L.D."

"And, easier for me to see you," I said. "I'll be doing my internship and a few classes there this year."

"I know." He gave me a light laugh.

When I walked back to my plane, I noticed that Natasha was giving me a close look.

"What?" I asked.

"You and the Captain seem to be pretty close," she remarked, giving me a knowing look.

"Yeah," I replied. "So?"

Natasha studied me for a moment, and a part of me was tempted to make a face at her.

"I would tell you to tread very lightly," Natasha told me. Almost like a warning to me.

"Meaning?" I asked.

"Meaning most people would take advantage of that," she told me, and I rolled my eyes at her. "Of course. . .you aren't that type of person."

She didn't really see how close we were. Natasha just thought this was a budding friendship, and I was known to be both incredibly shy and fiercely loyal to the people I decide to trust. she had no idea that whatever me and Steve had went much deeper than that, and we were much closer than she probably even realized.

I think I was admitting what I truly felt for Steve in that moment.

I looked back at Steve, him being back a ways and watching the two of us. He wore a mysterious expression on his face. I felt there was something behind that expression that really made my stomach flip around. My feelings were pretty strong for him, and they blinded whatever common sense I had. I wanted to think his feelings for me went just as deep as mine for me. Wishful thinking, maybe.

Because of who I am as a person, I started second guessing the things that happened between us.

He only came to see me because we were friends, teaching me how to defend myself now that my powers were gone. I was the great-granddaughter of the two people he used to know, so I probably reminded him of an era long gone. Excuses after excuses.

If I truly opened my eyes, I would've seen the obvious. Steve would always make me see the good I could and did do for the people around me, instead of that untrue and twisted version of myself. He believed in me and what I could do, no matter what did or would happen. It was pretty obvious, though that twisted version of myself refused to even believe it, that Steve had feelings for me as well.


	51. Chapter 50

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I was packing everything into the back of the blazer I would take back to school for my year in Washington, D.C. Lauren was sitting off on the grass with a very thick book open in her lap, and she was asking me the study questions. She was helping me get ready for the LSAT I would be taking later that fall. I would be able to finish my undergrad in two years because they had me take college classes my last two years in high school because they weren't really ready to handle someone like me. The teachers all called me super smart or something, but I would always say it's because there's nothing to do in Iowa but study.<p>

But. . .whatever. . .

"My brain's shot," I told her after a while, rubbing my temples.

"You were doing fine," she tried to reassure me. "I legitly don't see why you've have any kind of problems with this test."

"First of all. . .legitly ain't a word. It's legitimately," I said, smirking at her. "And, I really need to freak out about something, or my life wouldn't be complete."

I closed the trunk of the blazer and leaned against it as I crossed my arms. Lauren studied me pretty closely, not really saying anything for awhile.

"You've been freaking out about something else entirely," she remarked. "Why?"

"Nothing," I quickly said. "Nothing I should really tell you right now."

"Why?" She asked. I think she sounded a little hurt about that. I never kept secrets from the rest of the Sisterhood. We don't do that sort of thing.

"Now's not really the time."

"You'll tell me, though. Right?"

"Duh."

"Good."

We started the longest road trip we had ever been on, and the time was broken with us loudly singing to our favorite songs or just plain yelling. The drive was non stop because we really wanted to be there as soon as we could. it was not too surprising we were both exhausted by the time we made it to ur new dorm.

"Well, Crazy Birdie. . ." She said, smirking at me. "This is going to be epic."

"Isn't it always, Icy Bitch?" I asked before we started cackling with our laughter.

* * *

><p>Surprisingly, it didn't take me long to find a number of people who held the same beliefs that I had about Mutant Rights. It was starting to confirm what I was starting to believe. The people of my generation were much more tolerant about the strangeness of the world around us. We could all remember when Tony Stark told the whole world he was Iron Man and the Battle of New York. We were much more likely to see the powers could belong to heroes as opposed to crazy terrorists that would try to destroy the world. The people of my generation were more accepting about changes and differences, not really caring too much about it all, oddly enough.<p>

We took what the Brotherhood had been doing for years and what The Rising Tide had started doing, and we kept the high dramatics and did our best to remove the violence of both groups.

The group became known as the Children of the Atom, and we were not limiting membership to only Mutants. Our message was pretty clear: If we wanted Mutants and any other persecuted group of people to be seen as equal, then we must show that equality in our actions.

Social media was our weapon. We tweeted about our main beliefs so much so that our group's name started to trend on Twitter. There were even more people of the same mind who started to join our little group, making it a national, bordering on international, movement.

We taped our demonstrations on the main campus lawn and pasted them on Youtube, more as proof of what could actually happen when there were people who didn't want us to be heard and who the real aggressors were. There were speeches about equality, and we spent a lot of time denouncing anything the Reverend Stryker would ever say. The world needed to hear our side of the story just as much as anything any Stryker would ever say.

* * *

><p>It was one of the mornings I would be with the Department of Mutant Affairs, and I was busy teetering on my heels as I walked towards my boss, Dr. Hank McCoy, to shake his hand.<p>

"You've been busy," he told me as we walked into the federal building they kind of shoved the whole department into.

I winced a little. "You've heard?"

"It was brought to my attention," Hank remarked.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"It was needed," he replied. He knew enough to understand I wouldn't tolerate any kind of violence. No matter how much it would be deserved by the other side.

"So. . ." I asked. "What are we doing?"

"there are Mutants who would be rounded up," he explained. "Hospitals or jails in the area or beyond. We would go to them and make sure they are helped."

"Makes sense."

We were met by a blond woman wearing a suit. She held a top secret government file close to her chest, and when she saw us, she walked directly toward us.

"I'm Jennifer Jereau," she told us, and she gave me an unsure look as she handed the file to Hank. "She was found very early this morning, and she refused to speak. All we know. . .she's had a very difficult life, and it might have had to with what she could do. . ."

"So. . .she's a Mutant," I told her, and she looked back at me for a moment, not really responding at all.

We stood in front of the door to some bare interrogation room. I could see a teenaged girl sitting against the wall and hugging her knees to herself. She was only staring off into the space in front of her. Hank made a small hand gesture, and I opened the door to walk into the Spartan room.

"Just because of her family connections," was the last thing I heard from an FBI agent named Derek before I went to talk to the poor girl. "doesn't mean we should just let her talk to her. She's not experience enough to help her."

The girl barely registered my presence, and I went to sit next to her, taking a moment to still be silent.

"I'm like you," I quietly told her. "A Mutant. I used to be able to control fire, but someone gave me the cure." She flickered her eyes to look at me, and she was not as tense as she was when she first saw me. "But. . .I've had it better than most people." I studied her another moment, really understanding what was happening to her and her very difficult life. It's not pretty, and I really felt for her.

"There was a day when you woke up," I was starting to say to her. "You thought you were the same as the day before, but you knew that you completely changed. A small part of you changed, making you very different, and there were people who hated you for it." Barely any reaction. Just as I thought would possibly happen. "But. . .there were people who would try to exploit that difference." She looked up at me. "They wanted to make you their perfect weapon, didn't they?"

She nodded gravely. "They lost the first two."

"I met them," I told her. "It wasn't ever going to work with them."

"No. That's what they always said," she agreed with me. "but, the main base was destroyed when the dam went out."

"You took your chance for freedom," I said, but she grimaced in pain. "Or, someone made sure you've made it out with our life."

I reached out one of my hands to her, and she took it. I gently squeezed my hand to give her any kind of reassurance.

"Let them help you," I told her. "they can help get the people who had taken you since your escape."

She pulled her hand away from me, still being ice cold. "You don't get it, do you? Their reach is everywhere. Probably even their own team."

That was enough for me to understand that there was some sort of plan in the works. There were other branches still active and ready, and their reach was becoming even longer with each passing day.

"We know of a place to hide you," I told her. "There would be other who are like and won't hate you for it, either."

"Is the Wolverine there?" She asked, almost in awe of him,

"There's a chance he'd still be there," I quietly told her. "If not, he always make a point of going there."

"What would he think?"

"He'd be one of the few people who'd understand you," I explained to her. "They ruined his life in almost the same fashion."

She trusted me with that, wanting to believe me, and she started to speak to me. I learned a lot of what I really didn't want to know, but I didn't let that show to her. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

After a while, I walked out of the room and into an all-out argument.

"She has no right to make that promise," Derek was saying. "DHS will be called. . ."

"Department of Human Services. . ." I interrupted him. "She's a Mutant. They're not going to try for her because they don't care. She'll probably be in the same situation again."

"Which was why they were called," the man in charge, Aaron, explained.

"But. . .that's not right. . ." Derek said, sounding almost deflated.

"Then," I said, my voice actually full of steal. It was pretty strange. "Change the world."

* * *

><p>Me and the girl were sitting together as we waited for Logan to appear. I was surprised he would actually show up that soon after I called him, but he would always be surprising. He walked towards us, and the girl was quickly on her feet.<p>

"You might as well call me Logan," he told her when he was close enough to see us. "What do you go by?"

"Laura," she told him.

"At least they didn't try to take that from you," he muttered before he nodded at me as he was about to leave.

Laura grabbed one of my hands, and she squeezed it before she left.

"Thank you," she told me. "Whatever you need, I will help you. No matter what."


	52. Chapter 51

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I was still reading (freaking out over) my LSAT when Lauren came back to our dorm room, waving her cellphone around my face.<p>

"Do you see it? Isn't it weird?" She asked very quickly, but I couldn't really see whatever she was trying to show me.

I just as quickly grabbed her wrist. "Stop moving your arm. I can't see anything."

"Oh, right."

It was a live video feed from The Rising Tide that showed a tall man wearing a hooded sweatshirt, face obscured by shadow. The strange man cradled an unconscious woman to his chest as he leapt down from the upper story of the factory just as the inside began to blow up even more behind him. He landed on the ground, briefly waiting until the woman slowly regained consciousness before he disappeared into the awestruck crowd.

My attention went to what was left of the company's name on the side of the factory building, which looked like Cybertek or something like that, and I mentally reminded myself to tell my grandma about it. She needed to know what was happening. If she hadn't already. This fit with what we were working on.

"Not weird," I told her. "Been dealing with this for how long?"

"Well. . ." She went to say. "You're way too cool about this."

"No, I'm not," I told her, truthfully. "I'm just seeing something else right now. Nothing even remotely close to what you're thinking about."

"Really?" She asked me, and she shook her head. "You're really. . ."

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "You should've known that by now."

"I do, but you just surprise me a lot of times."

"Which is why you love me," I replied as I went to answer my phone.

It was my grandma with an update.

"Ward made contact," she told me.

"Because of what's on The Rising Tide?" I asked in Low German as I walked through the hallway. No one should ever be able to understand me in that language which, with what we were talking about, was a good thing.

"Parts of it. Yes."

"So Coulson is really alright?" I asked after a while. "How?"

"Tahiti is a magical place," she told me almost automatically.

There was something about it that pricked through my memory. That name meant something, but at the time, I couldn't really remember why.

"He's creating his own little team," she told me.

"That'll be good," I said. "He'll need them in the time to come."

"You'll hate to lose your Rising Tide source. He's been trying to get her to join S.H.I.E.L.D."

"I'm fine with that. She'll be perfect."

I walked back into our dorm room, and Lauren had her arms crossed as she stared me down.

"What?" I asked her.

"You. . ." She said, but she shook her head. "Still won't tell me?"

"Not yet."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "You think you're James Bond or something?"

"Or something."

I went to argue with her. Just because, but my phone went off another time. I looked at the text message to see it was from Steve, and he wanted to see me.

"Was that Steve?" Lauren asked, reaching out to grab my phone, so she could see the text message. "Let me see."

I had the phone out of her reach. "What makes you say that?"

"You wore your Steve-smile," she told me, and she was able to grab my phone, being able to read the text. "Go see him. Go!"

She actually pushed me through the door, and I rolled my eyes as I started to walk away before I went to meet with Steve. When I was out of the building, I saw Steve waiting for me under one of the closer trees. Steve smiled at me when he saw me.

"Hey you," I said to him, smiling almost shyly at him when I was nearer to him.

"Hey," he said, and he had a gentle hold of one of my hands.

For a moment, we didn't really say anything to each other, just looked at each other. Steve quickly cleared his throat.

"Have you ever been here?" He asked.

"Class trip in eighth grade," I told him. "Been awhile, and it was more of a cliff notes version." I gave him another smile. "Were you going to ask me to see some of the stuff with you?"

"If you want to."

I wrapped my arm through his. "Of course I do."

He smiled at me again as we started to walk off campus. We were talking and laughing as we walked, seeing the monuments at night was our excuse to spend some time together.

"Were you aware of what happened in Los Angeles?" He asked me.

"Lauren showed me," I told him. For a moment I was wondering why whenever we met, we only talked about "work." It sort of cut through me, and it really hurt that was all we would really talk about. "Right before I left."

"And, you're not interested?" He asked. Steve was giving me a strange look when he noticed I was a little monotone when I was speaking with him.

"I am," I told him, sounding emotionless. "In my own way. Did they send you to L.A.?"

He shook his head. "Didn't want me involved."

"Weird. . ." But, I wasn't surprised.

They didn't want to deal with the backlash of us finding out about Coulson, the one catalyst that worked to bring us all together to save the world, was still alive just yet.

"Yeah. . ." He told me, shaking his head.

I was still hanging on his arm, slightly resting my head on his arm. I was forcing myself to ignore the hurt of him only talking about "work" at first because that was the way he was. He was the type of person who wanted to get that out of the way, I would always tell myself, and at that moment, we were talking about random, non-work-related things. Steve had stopped walking at that point, and I went to face him.

He went to brush some of my hair out of my face as he looked down at me, and I felt my face become a little warmer. It was starting to become very difficult for me to look him in the eyes, and he quietly tipped my head back to get me to look at him. For a moment, he could only look back at me before he gave me one of the sweetest and lightest kissed he had ever given me. After awhile, he pulled away only a little and rested his forehead against mine, one of his hands still resting against my cheek.

After awhile, he quickly cleared his throat and slowly pulled away from me, and he was looking around us, frowning a little.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

"I think someone's been watching us," he quietly told me.

I went to look around, but Steve was trying to stop me. I only grabbed his wrist. He wasn't going to stop me. At first, I didn't really see anything, but the longer I looked, the easier it was for me to see Scott Summers and Jean Grey.

Why they were in D.C. was a mystery to me at the time.

Jean still had that almost supernatural expression on her face that she had been wearing from the moment she had returned after her "death."

"I'm not even sure why they would follow us," I remarked, and I started to pull away from Steve.

He was still wearing a frown of concentration as he looked back at those two, and he quickly grabbed my arm to stop me.

"Something's not right," he told me.

"Maybe they want to talk to Hank or something like that," I replied.

He shook his head. "Look at the man. . ."

Scott wore a very vacant and expressionless look. It was a look one would immediately know that the person was under some kind of mind control, and it was far more pronounced for Jean. Every time Scott would speak to her, the more human and more caring part of Jean began to disappear.

That wasn't right.

"You're right," I said, but it was very absentminded. I was starting to scan around me, looking for the person controlling Jean through Scott.

When Jean returned, it became very obvious that she was very powerful, so someone needed to exploit the link between Scott and Jean to control her. Scott looked back at me before he disappeared into the crowd around them.

It was like he was trying to tell me something without saying anything to me out loud. I don't think he was even aware of it.

The last image I saw of Jean was her dark, red hair blowing around her with no wind around us, and there was that curious trick of the light, again. There was the fiery, birdlike aura that began to surround Jean. Unlike before when the aura was brighter, and it was more like the light of sun and stars, but at that moment, it was almost blood red and almost like a hellfire.

Then they were gone, but I had a feeling that would he some kind of problem much later. something big and something bad. I could see why Nate was so concerned.

Steve had my hand, and I snapped back into reality, shaking my head for a moment.

"What's wrong?" He asked me.

"I was thinking about something," I told him, and I looked up at him. "Don't worry about it."

"You seemed pretty worried."

I made a face, knowing he just caught me. "Fine. . .I have no idea what that was about, and I hate not knowing about anything." I paused a moment. "Lauren says I freak out about anything."

Steve did relax when I said that, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we started to walk again. It was pretty clear he was going to keep a closer eye on me from that point on, knowing I would do something about what I had just seen. He knew enough to know he wouldn't be able to stop me in any way when I had my mind set on something, but he was going to step in if he feels like I need him to.

"Do you think you have enough time?" He asked me, knowing that I would be working on it in the time to come.

"I can make time if I think I feel like I have to," I told him, going back to hanging on his arm as we walked.

I heard him sigh when I said that, and he had me look up at him.

"You need to be careful," he told me very quietly. "For me."


	53. Chapter 52

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I called Nate about what I saw, and he sounded like he didn't really fully know everything that was going on with his parents.<p>

"That's what I was afraid of," he muttered to me. "I think it's gotten worse."

"She was changed when she came back?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he admitted. "There was something. . .old and very powerful." He paused a moment. "I don't think how this is. . .it's like she's connected to the universe or something like that."

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"I'm at the Triskellion," he quickly told me. "I can't really look into that. Talk to Rachel and do your own digging. You'll always look at things far better than me, anyway."

"Fine," I told him.

"I think the fire that surrounds her is the key to all of this," he told me. "And, it's not from around here."

We ended the conversation, and I was starting to think. Everything I witnessed with that strange light and my feelings about it mixed with Wanda's ominous warnings. This was going to be much worse than anything Loki would ever do, and I can't believe I'm saying that. It was just the feeling that I had possessed.

I walked to the broom closet the felt was necessary for the whole Department of Mutant Affairs, and Hank was waiting for me.

"Have you heard from the professor recently?" I asked him.

"Yes," he told me, and then he made a face. "I don't know how you figured that out."

"I saw Scott and Jean last night," I told him. "And, something was off about them both."

"They had an encounter with the Hellfire Club," he explained. "Nothing really happened."

"Yeah. . ." I said, just as unconvinced as him, and I shook my head.

That was when Nick Fury made his appearance. Maria Hill was at his side, as always, as they walked towards the broom closet. It was clear that Hank and Nick knew each other from a long time ago, and there was a small amount of trust between the two of them. And, there would be a time when that small amount of trust would be enough.

I crossed my arms when Marria narrowed her eyes at me, and I was tempted to make faces at her just because.

"There are things she shouldn't hear," she commented to Nick, stressing certain words.

"She is capable," Hank remarked. "And, I completely trust her."

"This involves the Mutant Brotherhood," Nick explained. "And her brother may actually have a more leadership role within the group."

I made a face before Nick looked at me, and I started to wear a bored and disinterested expression.

"Doesn't mean she condones everything he does," Hank remarked.

"And, she's also right here," I remarked, really not happy with why they were there.

"You know I have been working on a project," Nick was telling Hank. "After New York."

"Your so-called thought experiment," Hank remarked, but he was starting to frown a little. "Your superiors like the idea."

"Alexander does," Nick said. "He talked the rest of the Council into agreeing with it." I started to mutter about Pierce in Cajun. "I know you two would know more of where the Brotherhood would be hiding."

"You want us to sell them out?" I snapped before realizing I should have been quiet.

"That was what I meant," Maria muttered to Nick. "They are dangerous. . ." But Hank made a sharp gesture with one of his blue furry hands.

"A lot of them were misguided, angry, and very conflicted teenages who had been living difficult lives from the moment they had received their powers," Hank explained. "As far as they were concerned, the only people who understood them was the Brotherhood."

"What are you saying?" Maria asked.

"He's saying that we should be careful of who we would label as terrorists," Nick said, understanding it completely.

"You don't really pay attention, do you?" She asked us. She was not happy about what Hank had been implying to them.

"We do," I snapped back at her. "It's the way you guys treat us that makes them join the Brotherhood."

"They're making your kind look dangerous and seem more loose cannon. I would've thought you would give them up."

I snorted. "Then, you're very ignorant by thinking we'd sell them out. Where would you draw the line between dangerous or not dangerous? There are more of you with looser definitions of dangerous."

"You couldn't have chosen someone better," I thought I heard Nick Fury tell Hank. "No one has the guts to outright argue with Hill."

"She's one of the few people I know who prefers to be direct when speaking," Hank replied. "It's pretty refreshing."

"I told you they wouldn't agree," Hill told Nick Fury. "You just wasted a visit."

Nick shook his head. "There was something else I wanted to talk to Hank about. Alone."

For who knew how long, me and Hill had to wait outside the broom closet as Fury and Hank talked about whatever it was. My phone kept going off, but I knew enough not to answer that with Hill in earshot of me.

"Are you going to answer that?" She asked me, clearly annoyed by the choice of ringtone that Janet and Lauren had chosen for me when they both messed with my phone before we left home.

"Hm. . .nope," I told her, earning a dirty look from her. "It's because you're annoyed."

Fury and Hank were out of the broom closet in time to keep Hill from killing me or destroying my phone, and the two agents disappeared. I noticed that Hank seemed to be a little troubled about something.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

"Nothing that concerns you right now."

"I'll figure it out," I quickly replied. "Eventually."

"There are some things you do not need to know," Hank told me. "Just yet."

I shook my head at him. "Whatever."

* * *

><p>Ward told me about this HYDRA weapon that was found in some very old ruins in Argentina. It was one of those weapons that were made from the Tesseract, and it was now in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hands.<p>

"What happened to the thing?" I asked him, actually feeling cold, and I hated feeling cold.

"They took it to the Fridge," he answered. "To send it to the sun. It was deemed too dangerous to be in anyone's hands."

"How far away were you from the rocket when it was launched?" I asked. "Did you even see it be loaded onto the rocket?"

"We saw the rocket from far away and no," Ward answered, sheepishly.

"Did the people in charge of its transport tell you that?"

"Yes. They made a point in telling us."

I looked through the information my grandmother had given to me on my secure laptop. She held a very unique position within the organization. Her strategic mind was still a valuable asset, and everyone still trusted her with very important and classified information, mostly because she wasn't and active agent. Her work as the mandatory counselor for agents gave her access to their mindset of the agents. She placed it all into a file that only I would be able to read through for the better understanding of what we were dealing with.

There was information about the Fridge, and the people who were in charge of it. More proof.

I didn't really like what was happening all around us.

That weapon was one of the last things they should even know about, and the thing should've been destroyed a long time ago.

"We're gonna amend our goals," I told Ward. My mind moving very quickly. Then, I saw what was also kept in the Fridge, and I knew that should've been destroyed as well.

"What are you going to do?" Ward asked. He could tell I was planning something.

"I'm going to make sure they would be destroyed. . ." I told Ward, and I added what he needed to get.

It was a gamble, but I was going to make sure someone in the family would be able to destroy them. I was going to watch to make sure those powerful weapons were long out of reach from anyone. Ward trusted me with what I had told him to do.


	54. Chapter 53

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>I was about to go see Steve one morning before I would go to a lecture when Ward called me. A recent mission must have really bothered him.<p>

"Slow down," I said, trying to be the calming force. "Tell me what happened."

"Coulson's former protege," he explained. "Was caught stealing certain items and some information."

"That happens more than you realize."

He chose to ignore my comment. "She was forced. They gave her a fake eye that would giver her commands and some kind of x-ray vision. If she disobeyed in any way, it would blow up and kill her."

Ward explained more about the strange eye, and I shook my head. That was pretty horrible and strangely familiar.

If my grandma needed proof. . .

Ward quickly ended the conversation, probably so he could talk to Cable or his old S.O., Garrett.

I looked up to see Steve waiting for me, and he was wearing a concerned look for me. The troubling news must have affected me much more than I had realized, and it must have showed across my face.

I smiled back at him. "Hey."

"Was that your brother?" Steve asked.

I shook my head. "My grandma has me working on something. It's pretty difficult."

His brows knitted together when he looked down at me. He was still pretty concerned for me.

"Where do you get all of this time. . .?" He asked me.

"You know what I found out. . ." I told him, trying to be lighthearted for him. "I love coffee."

"You're going to kill yourself if you're not careful," he cautioned, and we started to sort of walk around together. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"I know. I know. . ." I told him as we started walking off campus. "I'll be fine."

We walked passed the Triskellion, and on the famous memorial of all of the agents who died for the country on everything S.H.I.E.L.D. was involved with, something caught my eye. I stopped walking to get a better look. Written across the memorial were the words: "Where's the rest of me?" It looked like it was written in blood, and my eyes went down to below the words. I was horrified. It was a bloody skull and spinal column. Before I was able to react, Steve held me to him and made sure he shielded me from that grisly scene.

"It's okay," he was telling me over and over again as he started make a phone call.

* * *

><p>More people in black suits cordoned off the area, much to the chagrin of S.H.I.E.L.D. against, proving that different federal agencies truly hated working together. Especially S.H.I.E.L.D. and the F.B.I.<p>

There was a man wearing a blue jumpsuit of the lab that was called to help with the investigation started to look around the skull and the spinal column, and when the pathologist arrived, he would not stop talking at her.

"I'm thinking S.H.I.E.L.D. was behind that attempted missile strike on New York on that day." I swore I heard him say to the pathologist who was only rolling her eyes at him, probably hearing something like that more than once in the time that she had known him. "I'm just saying. . ." But, he sort of became pretty quiet and serious. "My grandfather always wondered what they did to HYDRA's greatest weapons and their greatest minds when the organization was ripped apart after the war. We always shared theories. . ."

"And, I'm sure they make perfect sense," the pathologist remarked. "But, you should probably focus on finding time of death."

An F.B.I. agent was there, and Steve had lightly touched my shoulder to make me look up at him.

"I'm Agent Booth," he greeted, showing us his badge. "I just have a few questions for you."

We were able to give him satisfactory answers, but there was something about all of what was happening caught my attention.

It was no accident that part of the body was left in front of the Triskellion. No accident at all. The killer wanted to leave some kind of message about S.H.I.E.L.D.

I knew I needed to pay closer attention to whatever that case may bring. Whatever it was, I knew it would be very important. When the agent walked away, Steve gave me a close look.

"What?" I asked him innocently.

"No."

"No. . .what?"

We were allowed to leave, but not before we were told they would be in contact with us in the future if they needed us. Steve still had an arm wrapped around my shoulders as we walked back to the campus.

"Don't get involved with this, too." He had me look at him, and he gently tipped my head back to be able to look at him. "Just let them do their job. They sound like they know what they're doing."

"I know," I told him. "I'll only watch the news."

"And, you don't already?" He asked me, and it almost sounded like he was joking with me. He knew me well enough to know I obsessed knowing everything happening all around the world.

"Well. . ." I drew the word out before smiling at him "I might actually pay attention."

* * *

><p>I asked my grandma pull her magic to keep an eye on any leads from that case. She agreed with me there was something about that case that was too much of a message to anyone about S.H.I.E.L.D.<p>

The next day, I had access to even more classified information about that case.

* * *

><p>Rachel Summers, being about eighteen, sat across from me. She had vibrant green eyes and fiery red hair. Like Nate, she looked more like her mother than her father. It looked like she had spent a good while being worried about what was happening to her parents.<p>

"Tell me everything you know," I told her very quietly. "And, take as much time as you need."

Rachel swallowed and closed her eyes before opening them again. "It started with Dad going to face the Hellfire Club with Storm and Logan." The Hellfire Club was the continuation of the group my grandparents faced back in the Sixties with Professor Xavier and Magneto. "There was not a fight. The blonde woman. . ."

"Emma Frost," I helped her.

The original Hellfire Club members made good their escape after working with Magneto and Mystique for a few years when they realized that though he believed in Mutant Superiority, he didn't really treat those older members with the respect they felt they deserved.

"Yeah. . .Emma Frost just waved her hand and smirked at them, and the Hellfire Club disappeared," she continued. "Dad was never really the same since."

"What do you mean?"

"He's just. . .off," she told me. "Blank eyes. . .no emotion. It was like he was listening to someone else."

"How is that affecting your mother?"

She gave me a look. "For obvious reasons, they share a mental connection, and she had always listened and trusted him. No matter what would happen."

Rachel pulled out some pictures of her mother when they found her, and they matched those mysterious, grainy pictures and cell phone videos that were shown on the news several months before. She was surrounded by the fiery and bird-like light.

"I know why they wanted to control her," Rachel told me. "Me and Nate do. . ."

"A bond between a mother and her children being much stronger than anything else," I remarked. "Add to the fact you're all telepaths. . ."

"I started before she died," she told me. "Something noticed how powerful she was and her great potential, and it was always held back by how unsure she was about it." She cleared her throat. "It's. . .I've done some research. . .legends and myth. . .it's called the Phoenix Force."

She told me about the force of nature that had been around long before the creation of the current universe that was created in the Big Bang. It was connected to very powerful telepaths, and if it needed a host to act in some way, it would choose the most powerful telepath of the generation. Jean Grey would have the power that would be directly connect her to the universe.

"Why now?" I asked.

"New York happened," she told me. "We found her underneath Stark Tower, and. . .we got that picture. . ."

It was a better picture of her being surrounded by the bird-like flame, and her eyes were pure white.

"She was able to repair the tear the aliens came through," she told me. "You can see my concern."

"And, why the Hellfire Club would be interested in her."

We talked about what we could do to help her mother, but we really had no idea what we were going to do. This went beyond anything we had ever really done before.

* * *

><p>Ward called me one more time, and he was sounding pretty angry. At first all I got out of him was Skye's name and nothing more.<p>

"What did Skye do?" I asked when he was waiting for what I had to tell him.

"She joined under false pretenses," he finally was able to tell me. "And, I've been told you thought she'd be perfect."

"Several things here," I calmly told him. "The false pretenses? You of all people are mad about that? And. . .you agreed with me and Coulson."

"She only joined for The Rising Tide. . ."

"Maybe. . .maybe not. . ." I replied. "There's always something more behind the story. You just got to look for it."

"And. . .what would that be?"

"I think that's something she should tell you herself."

* * *

><p>The main suspect in the strange killing was a prominent Rising Tide hacktivist who held very strong opinions about S.H.I.E.L.D., much stronger than any of the other members. He held many conspiracy theories that even The Rising Tide would laugh off, not cool for a brilliant hacktivist. The need for people to know everything snapped his control, and even though the condition of his parole stated he had to stay away from any working computer and wearing an ankle monitor that would track his location every thirty-eight seconds, he acted.<p>

His name was Christopher Pelant.


	55. Chapter 54

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>I was at Hank's side when he went to speak with Warren Worthington II about the Mutant Registration Act. Why it was still in the works had to do with that man's prejudices and major political connections. It was unseasonably warm that day, and I kinda felt bad for his son, Warren Worthington III. He wore a thick and baggy trenchcoat, probably on his father's orders.<p>

His father always seemed to wear a look of disgust for his only son, the same look he had for me and for Hank. Warren was a Mutant, and his father was both disgusted and ashamed of that fact. I would call it poetic justice, but I remembered what had happened to Jason Stryker.

Sometimes that was the worst part about being a Mutant. Not the great and sudden uncontrollable powers but the fact the family would turn their backs on you and cut you out of their lives forever. There were kids who needed support during extremely difficult part in their lives, and they were all alone.

And, people were wondering why Mutants would flock around Magneto. He was actually doing something to change the world, as far as they were concerned.

"Mr. McCoy," Warren the Elder said, stressing on the wrong honorific.

"He is a medical doctor," I mumbled.

"Excuse me?" The Elder demanded. He heard me.

I made direct eye contact with him, not even flinching away from the cold and hard glare. "It's nice to finally meet you. How about the weather?"

My voice had a slight Southern accent to it, making me seem sweet and innocent, but it disguised a cold and icy fury.

Hank and the Elder were quietly speaking alone the Elder's office, and I strained my ears to hear the inevitable argument to erupt. Apparently, Hans was pretty under control of himself. Much better than anyone in my family.

I rolled my eyes. Guess I was going to pepper him with questions when I had the opportunity. Probably when we left the building.

The younger was studying me pretty closely, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"What did you want?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "You're lucky."

Meaning: I'm lucky to have the family that I did have.

That's a first for me. I never had some well off guy basically tell me how much he wished he had my life.

"Why do you let him treat you like that?" I asked him.

"He's my father," he remarked.

"I know. I know," I said, and I didn't like what I had to say next to him. "A father should never act like that to their children."

"He's still my father," he said again, and I looked at him very closely, starting to understand him a little bit more.

"Then. . ." I drew the word out. "Don't be ashamed for what you are. It's all a part of who we are. Don't ever be ashamed."

The Younger looked at the door to his father's study for a moment. "He doesn't really. . .approve."

"From my own experience," I told him. "Ignore what people think about you. As long as you like yourself, your life would be great."

He looked at me for a moment as my words began to sink in. they rolled his eyes (the words still made him think). "You're not going to sing "Let It Go" to me are you?"

"You just ruined the moment," I told him, almost smiling. Somehow, my words worked. "So. . .no."

* * *

><p>I walked back to my dorm after grabbing something to eat from the cafeteria, and there was a group of guys, all gigantic athletes, and they surrounded an older student, basically yelling at the poor guy. They shoved him to the ground, laughing as all of his stuff fell around him.<p>

They looked at me, and they saw that I was glaring at them. They laughter immediately died away, and they were quickly gone, leaving the boy on the ground.

I went to help him to his feet and help him pick up the scattered textbooks and notebooks.

"Thanks," he told me very quietly, trying to get away from me as quickly as possible.

"Wait. . ." I told him, and he stopped moving. "You're Simon Williams, right?"

He gave me a dark look, thinking he knew what was going to happen, and he nodded. Simon Williams didn't really know me as well as he thought he did.

"Why do you let their words affect you?" I asked him.

"We've known each other for a long time," Simon was able to admit to me. "And, he always said those same things over and over, and he wasn't the only one to do it."

He had a look in his eyes that bothered me. It was the look of a man who had finally snapped, and he would do anything for some kind of payback. His life was very difficult, and he could not take it any more.

As Simon Williams walked away, I knew I needed to help him in any way I could. Otherwise, he would ruin his life and do something he would live his whole life regretting.

* * *

><p>Lauren showed me a post about the dangers of having unregistered Mutants around your home, and my blood started to boil. they had no idea what they were talking about. That was pure prejudice.<p>

"You know what to do," I told Lauren, and she nodded.

The Internet exploded with a horrible and true story. There was a young woman who always wanted to help people, and who would always follow the law, no matter what could happen to her. Her Mutant ability was healing anyone just by touching them. Any illness. Any injury. She wanted to become a doctor, and she would have done so much good for the world. To go to medical school, and she needed to register as a Mutant. She disappeared without a trace, and days after her disappearance, her whole immediate family was found, two shots to each head.

That was the dangers of registering as a Mutant.

The story spread across social media like wild fire. Every Iowan was horrified, and they made their opinions known about that potential national law. They didn't want it to be passed. It was horrible.

U.S. Senators and Representatives for Iowa knew enough to know they were vehemently opposed to the act. Some would call that political suicide, but in Iowa it was political suicide to support anything Anti-Mutant.

Senator Stern was quick to deny everything, but everyone around the country started to see him for who he was, at least the Iowans felt that way. The Senator had no proof for his denials, and no one believed them.

Support for the Mutant Registration Act was dwindling considerably.

* * *

><p>I looked into that case when I finally had a chance, and I was horrified at what happened. Whoever killed the person chose a victim who was sweet and had no enemies. She was an innocent lamb for the slaughter. Her killer chose her because there was no one in D.C. who would miss her, and he chose her because he needed someone to kill for his message.<p>

Christopher Pelant was a horrible monster.

Based on everything that happened to the body after her death and all of his views about S.H.I.E.L.D., it had to have been he who killed the poor woman.

Parts of her body were found in very old S.H.I.E.L.D. records of what was called Operation Paperclip. They were records of former HYDRA scientists were involved in the early days of S.H.I.E.L.D., and the Agent Booth saw old crates that held the old HYRDA weapons that had been confiscated following the war.

What was Pelant's game? And, I was hoping he'd be caught before everything would inevitably come to light. But, I think I realized he just snapped after years of no one even bothering to listen to him. He felt people needed to know who they trusted to protect them. Evil needed to be seen to be understood.

This was what our world had become. People were seeking power, and there were those who were ignored when they spoke about the inherent dangers of handing far too much power to the wrong type of people.

It was only a matter of time before everything would come to light.

* * *

><p>Steve was waiting for me in my dorm room, and I tossed my bag by my desk before I gave him a very small smile.<p>

"Hey," I said very quietly.

"Hey," he told me. "Your friend let me in. . ."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course she would. . ."

Steve took a small step towards me, and he lightly cupped my cheek before he pulled into a kiss. His tongue lightly ran across my lips, and I opened my mouth for him.

After a while, we pulled apart, and we started to smile and laugh quietly and uncomfortably with each other. It was something easier for us to do by that point, and we were much closer by that point. I think it had to do with us being able to see each other basically every day. It felt so right.

I thought of him as the one person who could be my rock and my support in everything that was going to happen in the future, and I was going to need him.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked me when we were sitting on the floor. I rested my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around my waist.

I looked up at him, wearing a small smile. "You. . ." I quickly stopped myself when I realized what I had just told him or so very close to telling him.

My face felt very warm, and it was probably very pink. I looked into his eyes, and I could tell he was dealing with some conflicting feelings. Steve looked a little pleased about what I was so close to admitting to him, but he felt a little quilt about it, too.

Steve shook his head, trying to clear it. "I. . .you. . ." He swallowed. "Peggy. . ."

I gave him a light hug. "It's okay. . ." My voice was very quiet. "You have some things you need to work out. I. . .understand. I can wait. . ."

Steve held me closer to him, and he kissed my forehead. "That's. . .you. . .are. . .very wonderful. I don't know what I could do without you."


	56. Chapter 55

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Rachel and I were walking one Saturday morning, and we were talking about what was happening with her mother. There was less concern by that point.<p>

"I helped Mom and Dad," she told me. "And, Mom's back to normal."

"That's good," I told her. "As long as she has you, your brother, and your dad's support, she'll be fine."

"Yeah. . ." Rachel agreed. "She'll need us." She paused for a moment as if she was remembering something pretty important. "She'll need to concentrate all of the time to keep that otherworldly power under control."

"She just needs time to get used to it," I told her.

"Yeah," Rachel said, but she did not sound too convinced. She seemed to be pretty worried about something.

"Okay, Rachel," I said, seeing the worry. "Now, what's wrong?"

"There's a new teacher," she told me. "Emma Frost."

"What. . .?" I asked her. "What the hell?"

"Apparently," Rachel said, and she sounded like she was mocking it all just a little. "She reformed and felt very bad over what she had done over the years." Her eyes became a little darker. "She spends all of her time with Dad. Way too much time with my dad."

I frowned. "Maybe. . .but he could be helping her get used to the new school and its rules."

Rachel rolled her eyes at me. "I doubt it. You're way too naive."

I pressed my lips together and shook my head at her. "Just saying. Your father's not the worst person ever."

"Yeah. . .yeah. . ." Rachel said, shaking her head another time. "For some reason, I just have this feeling that it won't end well."

I looked back at her, and I was starting to understand why she was worried. Rachel and Nate had the same powers as their mother, and I was probably wondering if there was any possibility that they were either as powerful as their mother (she could be very powerful sometimes) or even more powerful than her. Rachel was probably right about what could happen to her mother or what her father could be doing with Emma Frost behind her back.

"Why would Emma Frost suddenly admit she was wrong?" I asked out loud. "She really believed in Mutant Superiority."

It all had to do with the power Jean had received, and Emma would have known about that power by also being a telepath.

* * *

><p>When I was back at the dorm room, I got a call from Ward with an important update.<p>

"You sound worried," I remarked, and I could tell that he was rolling his eyes at me.

"I'm not worried about anything," he remarked. "I was just going to tell you that your grandmother missed a name."

I was silent, not really wanting to say anything, but I really wanted to yell at him in defense of my grandma. He had no idea what he was talking about.

"Tell me," I said, and my voice was deathly calm. That would've been a warning to sign to anyone who knew me.

"Victoria Hand," he told me. "What do you know about her?"

"She sorta took a page from my grandma's book," I explained. "She's pretty good at planning things."

"She sent me and Fitz on a dangerous mission without an extraction team."

"You sure about that?" I asked. "She knows Coulson. He would not just leave you two in a very dangerous situation. She knew he would do whatever he could do to get you guys. There was no need for an extraction team. She already had a built-in one. It takes understanding of all of the personalities involved."

"What made the Chessmaster?" He asked, sort of changing the subject as he started to understand what I was speaking about.

"She's not super smart like Fitz and Simmons," I explained. "And, she can't take down large groups of people like you or May. She had to resort to planning and manipulating the situation as best as you can."

He thought about that for a moment, probably going to remember that for sometime in the future.

"He's calling himself the Clairvoyant to his followers," Ward told me, starting to sound a little dismissive over what he was going to say next. "He's letting a lot of them believe he can see the future or reading their minds."

"You'd be surprised," I remarked. "The world is a lot larger than you realize."

"You and I both know how he makes that work," he said. "This particular person is not even close to being a telepath."

"Don't just dismiss telepathy in general," I told him. "Trust me."

"The Clairvoyant is very interested in how Coulson. . .came back," he said, deciding again he needed to change the subject. It made sense with what he was working on and who he was.

When the conversation ended, I looked through all the filed my grandma had given to me, and I saw nothing about Coulson. There were files on everything else, but there was nothing about Coulson. Only a few people were allowed to know about how Coulson returned. My grandma may have been one of them, but I definitely wasn't.

Tahiti was a magical place, but what was in Tahiti. What made it so magical?

* * *

><p>There was another body found that was connected to Christopher Pelant, and it somehow managed to open a very cold case that very high up members of the Department of Justice and a family with powerful connections did not want even mentioned let alone reopened. The killer left one specific message for all of those involved with the investigation: Keep a very close eye on everything people in the government would do because many of them use their power for their own agendas.<p>

Their two different investigations had upset many powerful people. The young family of Booth and a forensic anthropologist named Dr. Brennan were throwing everything aside to answer the questions and to seek the justice.

I made a call to my grandma. Someone needed to keep an eye on them, and I couldn't really do it at the moment. They're going to need some kind of back-up for the fall-out of their investigations or whatever Pelant was going to do. Some quiet "nurse" was going to keep an eye on them, and she knew enough to act if would feel like she needed to.

Her name was Sharon Carter.

* * *

><p>I realize I need to do something in the library, and I was walking quickly through campus. I should've been more careful, but I preferred to be in my world. It was helping me study for my fastly approaching LSAT. My phone was starting to go off (Steve), and when I answered it, I became even more unfocused of the world around me. I was in the middle of laughing at whatever he had told me when someone appeared out of the shadows and shocked me.<p>

I swore in pain, and the last thing I really remembered was Steve frantically trying to get me to talk before things were starting to become black and vague. My cell phone fell through my slackened fingers as I was being pulled away to some waiting van. Maybe that was going to be enough for Steve.

The other person in the van with me made sure I was comfortable, and somehow, I was able to figure out that she had been taken like I had. I narrowed my eyes, seeing how familiar she seemed to be.

"Do I know you?" I slurred at her.

"I'm Dr. Brennan," she told me. "We met at the scene. . ."

"Oh. . ." I told her. "That makes sense. . ."

I was starting to feel like crap as my body was trying to come to terms with being suddenly shocked.

The van stopped moving after who knew how long, and the doors slammed open to show a quiet-looking young man with pale skin and strained eyes staring down at us. His eyes were starting to have a mad shine to them like he was a man who obsessed over one thing for years and years before he sort of just snapped.

"Christopher Pelant," Brennan said out loud for my benefit. "What are you doing?"

"You need to know something," he said. "And, this is the only way to get you to listen."

He had us get out of the van and led us into an empty and dark building. We were tied to two chairs in front of a large screen.

"There are people here with too much power," he said. "And, it all goes back to S.H.I.E.L.D., and their quest to keep everything a large secret." He turned on a laptop close by. "That allows for other people to take advantage of their power because no one's bothering to keep a close eye on them."

"So. . ." I said. "You really don't like S.H.I.E.L.D.? I can respect that."

He snapped his head to look at me, and his cold, emotionless glare made my blood run cold.

"Your grandmother was the best S.H.I.E.L.D. had to offer during a period of time when it was an all male dominant force," he snapped at me.

"She hasn't been an active agent since the late sixties," I quietly replied. "Because. . ."

"A family?" He scoffed at me like that was not a good excuse. "Not much of an excuse."

"It was the sixties," I replied. "They would've committed her if she didn't want children right away."

He was silent for a moment as he glared at me. Pelant had nothing to say to me about that.

"Project Insight. . .the Mutant Registration Act. . ." Pelant was saying as he flipped through the pictures of everything that had been happening. "We're all going to be dead if we let this go on any further."

* * *

><p><em>Taken from the records of Director Nick Fury's interrogation of Captain Stephen Rogers.<em>

**Fury:** What made you go to the campus?

**Rogers:** I was talking to Becca when. . .she was taken. . .

**Fury:** Did you know what happened to her at the time?

**Rogers:** We were only able to find her cell phone. . .at first. . .

**Fury:** What else were you able to learn?

**Rogers:** Her friend started to freak out, and she showed me what was on her laptop. . .that. . .site of videos. . .Becca was on it. (long pause) She was. . .

**Fury:** She was beaten up. . .badly, and she would not stop mouthing off to him. . .

**Rogers:** (silence) Yeah. . . (silence)


	57. Chapter 56

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p><em>Taken from the transcripts of the debriefing of F.B.I, Agent Seeley Booth by S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury.<em>

**Fury:** How were you involved?

**Booth: **There was that body, and a I promised the family we would bring her killer to justice. We knew it was Pelant. Everything made sense if he was directly involved.

**Fury:** Was that what Dr. Brennan was working on when she was taken?

**Booth:** Yes. She was trying to prove that he would manipulate his ankle monitor to do the murders.

**Fury:** How did you get a hold of Rogers?

**Booth:** (pause) I found him at the last place Pelant was spotted on that campus. He wanted to help find them.

* * *

><p>I was curled up in a ball, doing my best to ignore the pain that was everywhere. Whenever Pelant was there, I would just goad and goad him to the point he would need to kick or to hit me. As long as he forgot about the heavily pregnant woman with me, everything was fine. . .I guess. She was looking at me, trying to understand why I wold take that kind of pain.<p>

"You could seriously get hurt," she warned.

"I'll deal with it," I said. "Don't want him to hurt you." That might have been the wrong thing to say to her, and she was going to chew me out for even saying something like that. I only shook my head. "Independence and strength are all well and good, but it's not just yourself you need to think about."

"I know. I know. . ." She finally said, closing her eyes. "But, you should tone it down. He will kill you."

I braced myself to sit up and shook my head. "No. . .something tells me he needs both of us alive. In one piece? Maybe not, but he does need us alive."

"How do you know this?" She asked me.

"Gut feeling," I told her.

"I normally have a comment about how useless that would be," she replied. "But, I realized that there is some truth to it after working with Booth for so long."

She rested a hand on her stomach, but she wore a slight frown of worry. Brennan sat up a little straighter. I was quickly at her side, being able to ignore whatever pain I had been feeling up to that point.

"You okay?" I asked her, for once having no idea what I was going to do or what was going on.

"I don't. . ." She was saying, and she had to pause to take a deep breath. "My water broke, and I'm going into labor."

"Oh. . ." I said, completely at a loss of what I was suppose to do. My eyes scanned around me for anything I could use to make it work.

"Never done that before?" She asked me, making a face.

"Helped with a pig once," I replied. "And, a cow. That's not really the same. . ."

Pelant came back into the room, and for once, he was quiet when he was looking at us. There was no manifesto being ranted at us.

"Are you just going to stand there?" I demanded. "How 'bout you help?"

He snapped back into reality, and he quickly gathered objects outside of our room. A blanket. Some scissors. Anything else that could be used to help with the birth. He went to grab her hand and shrugged at me.

"I can tell you what to do," he said. "But, I'm pretty sure they would not want me to do it."

Brennan was only barely nodding at me. I rolled my eyes and glared at Pelant.

"No funny business," I told him. "If shit gets real, we're going to the hospital." I was at her feet. "And. . .you better know what you're doing."

* * *

><p><em>Taken from the debriefing of F.B.I. Agent Booth by S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury.<em>

**Fury:** How did you start your search?

**Booth:** It started with the video feed. There was someone I work with who was able to trace where it would be coming from and navigate through any guards he put up.

**Fury:** But, you had to know it wasn't that simple.

**Booth:** I had a feeling he wanted us to find them.

**Fury:** You used resources because of a hunch?

**Booth:** It's my job. . .

**Fury:** Where did you find them?

**Booth:** (pause)

**Fury:** Agent. . .do I need to remind you what kind of trouble you're in?

**Booth:** The old buildings where former HYDRA scientists were kept when they were starting to work with S.H.I.E.L.D. during those early days.

* * *

><p>I wrapped the blanket around the crying baby, and I handed the girl to her mother. Pelant had retreated to the edge of the room, trying to remain unnoticed and invisible. Brennan held her daughter close to her, and I had to breathe a sigh of relief. Nothing bad happened yet. I smiled at the mother and her daughter before I was back on my feet.<p>

I narrowed my eyes at Pelant. "We're all going to be dead if they won't be stopped?"

"They have way too much power, and there's no one out there keeping an eye on them," he said. This time he wasn't as deadly or as dangerous as before. That might have been the Pelant before he snapped when nobody listened to him. "Who watches the Watchers?"

I could hear a commotion outside. "A very good Chessmaster."

Before he could even respond, we could hear yelling as a SWAT team tore through the building, looking for the three of us. Pelant bolted, and I was back at Brennan's side, checking to see if she was alright. When they were in the room, Pelant was long gone, and there was no sign of where he had went.

"Bones!" Booth yelled when he was in the room, and he holstered his weapon when he was at her side.

I backed away from them as paramedics arrived to take her to the hospital. One did notice the blood all over me and how I favored a certain side and stayed with me, asking all kinds of questions to make sure I was okay. I tried to concentrate on finding the right answers, but the pain began to really pick up.

I passed out right there.

* * *

><p><em>Taken from the debriefing of "Agent 13" by S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury.<em>

**Fury:** Were in the old building?

**Agent 13:** No. I was completing my shift at the hospital.

**Fury:** Then tell me what happening in the hospital/

**Agent 13:** A judge's daughter was admitted into the hospital. Throwing up and complaining of pain. When we began to work on her, she seized, and all signs of life stopped. The doctor was going to send a sample of her blood to test, but he was ordered not to.

**Fury:** By who?

**Agent 13:** Some F.B. . Claimed it was a suicide, and the family didn't want the hassle and grief of an investigation.

**Fury:** What happened next?

**Agent 13:** Another F.B.I. agent, Booth, came in with a woman and a newborn daughter. They were arguing about whether she should stay in the hospital or not.

**Fury:** What was his reaction at the other agent's presence?

**Agent 13:** Anger. I think they saw him before under similar circumstances.

**Fury:** What happened?

**Agent 13:** There was an argument between both agents. Both accused him of a cover-up. He hated that. (pause) In my opinion is that he will remove them somehow.

**Fury:** I don't think he'll kill them.

**Agent 13:** Too obvious, but he can discredit them. That would be enough for him.

**Fury:** Who were his known associates?

**Agent 13:** Senator Stern is the more important one.

**Fury:** I'm not surprised. (pause) Who else was admitted?

**Agent 13:** Rebecca Tjaden. A lot of injuries that were consistent with being beaten. But, they weren't that serious. It was like Christopher Pelant was only doing that to prove some kind of a point, but he didn't really have the stomach to really hurt her.

**Fury:** Which was odd. . .considering. . .

**Agent 13:** Exactly. Her body temperature was incredibly high. Dehydrated. Very low blood sugar.

**Fury:** What happened next"

**Agent 13:** Dr. McCoy demanded everyone to leave the room. He was the only doctor she could even trust.

**Fury:** What was wrong with her?

**Agent 13:** Your guess is as good as mine. I'm only a nurse. There are a lot of things I don't know. (pause) But, McCoy seemed to know exactly what had happened.

* * *

><p>When I finally woke up, I saw IV's all sticking to my arm, and I made a face at it all.<p>

"Oh, come on!" I said, really making my displeasure known.

I had a slight headache, probably because I passed out. That always happened. I felt really exhausted like I can sleep for another several hours. At least. This all sucked. I hated hospitals.

Steve was at my side, and he had a gently hold of my hand. I smiled at him.

"Hey," I said.

He gave me a smile. "That was a change."

"I hate hospitals," I told him.

"Don't blame you," he told me. "I wasn't too fond of them either, and I had to spend a lot of time in them when I was younger."

I tried to sit up some more, and I ran a hand across my eyes. "How long have I been out?"

"A few hours," Steve told me. "The doctor just now allowed you to have visitors." And, he handed me my phone. "That didn't stop ringing from the moment you were taken."

I grimaced. "Oh, goodie."

We looked at each other for that moment, and Steve closed his eyes right before he looked away from me.

"I'm glad to see that you're alright," he told me, and he lightly kissed the inside of my wrist. "I don't know what I would've done if I lost you."


	58. Chapter 57

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Steve walked with me out of the hospital, pretty much supporting me the whole time. I felt very shaky and very weak, so walking was pretty difficult for me. It was the sort of feeling I hadn't felt in forever, and I didn't really miss that feeling.<p>

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked me with a lot of concern.

"Yeah," I told him. "I'm fine. I'm gonna eat a lot when I get back on campus 'cause I might start to gnaw on your arm."

Despite the worry he had to have been feeling up to that point, he started to laugh at what I had told him. In front of us were Brennan and Booth adoring over their daughter, and they both seemed to be glad that everything seemed to have turned out alright. We walked over to them.

Steve and Booth were talking with each other, and I acted like I was on focusing on the little girl.

"Her name is Christine," she told me. "After my mom."

"Sweet. . ." I said. "She's so cute."

Christine decided to open her eyes for a moment to look between her eye lids, and she yawned before closing her eyes again.

"What were they asking you about?" Steve asked Booth after one thanked the other back and forth for a couple of minutes.

"there are some higher ups who don't like how I do my investigations," Booth said. "I think they're concerned I might figure something out they don't want me to know, and they happen to know very powerful people."

"I've been noticing that with S.H.I.E.L.D. more and more," Steve muttered.

"Then you better watch yourself," Booth said.

"You, too."

I realized I needed some kind of contingency plan in place for that just in case something bad were to happen to them. I was going to talk to my grandma about it to get her opinion.

Steve helped me into the waiting car that Natasha Romanoff was driving, and he seemed to be deep in thought about something.

"Glad to see you're alright," Natasha told me as she started to speed away from he hospital. "But, I didn't know you could be a smart ass."

"He pissed me off," I defended.

She shook her head. "You're just too quiet."

When Steve led me back into my dark room, Lauren was waiting, and she was still visibly freaking out. She was talking far too quickly for me to even be able to understand her.

"I'm still high on the stuff they gave me," I told her. "You're speaking another language to me."

She stopped talking and gave me a close look. "Yep. You're alright." She opened the mini-fridge. "Pizza's in here. I have a big test i need to study for."

She was long gone.

"Nice to see you, too!" I called out to her as she left.

Steve sat next to me on the ground, and he gently had me look at him. His eyes were full of relief, but he was worrying about something. It was eating away at him almost.

"I'll be checking up on you," he told me. "But, you need to take it easy, alright?" I nodded. "Gives you more time to study."

He gently kissed me before he left.

* * *

><p>I was both working on my school work and studying for the LSAT that was fast approaching when I saw Simon Williams walking around his car to get something out of the trunk, and there was something about the way he was carrying himself that made me start to worry. I quickly walked out of the building and into the parking lot.<p>

He pulled out a shotgun from his trunk.

"Simon," I said, my hands were raised up for him not to see me as a threat. "What are you doing?"

His grip tightened around the gun before he faced me. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Yeah," I told him. "You're letting them get to you."

He snorted, and he was wearing a dark expression across his face. "You have no idea what it's like. It's constant. They can say and do whatever they want, and no one cares."

I shook my head, taking one small step closer to him. "First of all, I care." Another step. "And. . .trust me. . .I know about the whole incessant prejudices, so you're preaching to the choir." His grip wasn't as tight around his gun, and he wasn't going to take out anything more from his trunk. Behind him and still within earshot was Steve, and he looked like he was so close to jumping in to help me. "You know. . .I've heard what they all say to you, and it's the same thing over and over."

"So?" Simon asked. One of his hands started to really shake.

"So. . ." I told him. "It's white noise."

He was silent. "Ignoring them, really?"

"Yeah. . .as far you're concerned, they don't exist," I told him. "White noise." I shook my head. "I know you're very creative, and you have very great ideas that could change the world. You're going to throw it all away because some guy and his friends think they're clever. What a waste."

Simon and I looked at each other for a moment, and Simon sighed and shook his head. He unloaded the gun and went to place it all back into the trunk of his car.

"White noise," he said, and he was gone. Not the downtrodden young man any more.

Simon Williams was going to have the inner strength and willpower to move on, and he was going to change the world for the better.

Steve walked over to me, and he was wearing a mysterious expression on his face. He tipped my head up to look at me.

"What?" I asked him, confused about what was happening.

"What you just did," he told me. "That was. . .good."

I looked down from him, starting to become uncomfortable at his praise. That still happened a lot with me.

"There's nothing wrong with taking the compliment," Steve told me.

I shook my head. "Yeah, there is."

His eyes turned upwards like he was trying to understand why I would react the way that I do. H went to hold me close to him, and lightly kissed my forehead.

"Not many people would even try to do what you just did," Steve said to me. "They would have run away to safety."

When I looked up at him, I could still see the mysterious expression he was wearing. He was going to say something else to me, but he stopped himself like it wasn't really the right time or that he didn't want to deal with my reaction.

"You were checking up on me?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he told me. "But, I won't be for a while. I have a mission. Natasha will check up on you." He paused. "She doesn't know why."

"Why?" I asked him. "I'm fine. I can protect myself."

"I don't doubt that," he said. "But, you're on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar."

"I thought you forced yourself to trust them," I told him.

He was silent. "I trust certain people, but I'm starting to wonder if trusting S.H.I.E.L.D. as a whole would be a good thing."

* * *

><p>I went to see my great-uncle who was a doctor in the D.C. area. He was quickly talking with Dr. McCoy, and they stopped talking when they saw me.<p>

"What is it?" I asked them.

They looked between each other for a moment like they were trying to find the right things to say to me.

"When you passed out," my uncle told me. "It was something that hadn't happened to you in years."

"It kinda felt like that," I muttered.

"You need to understand," he said. "Think back to when you were younger. . .what happened directly after you passed out?"

My eyes widened. I knew exactly what he had meant.

* * *

><p>Nick Fury was talking way too much with Alexander Pierce in those following days, and he would speak with my grandma. He held back enough information to make all of us incredibly suspicious, but we could tell he was starting to question the motives and actions of one member of the World Security Council.<p>

"It all comes in the wake of what had happened in New York," my grandmother told me. "The World Security Council was way too quick to jump on that plan. That's the most suspicious part."

* * *

><p>I called Ward when I had some free time. He was on that plane, so he had to be very careful with what he was going to tell me.<p>

"Who is S.H.I.E.L.D. does Garrett talk to the most?" I asked him.

"Sitwell," he told me. "And, Alexander Pierce."


	59. Chapter 58

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Rachel was on campus the morning after I took my LSAT. The fall leaves were blowing around her, and she was pretty bundled against the cold air. She looked incredibly worried and very mad.<p>

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"It's about my parents," she said. "Things just got bad."

"What happened?" I asked, expecting the worst.

"Mom read Dad's mind," Rachel told me. "He was having an affair with Emma Frost, the 'reformed' new teacher at the school."

"Wow. . ." I said, starting to feel a little angry at that. "What a stand up guy."

"They argued," Rachel told me. A look of pain flashed across her face. "Then. . .Mom wasn't Mom anymore."

"What?" I asked. "How?"

Rachel held her hand for me which I took. We both closed our eyes. Her mother looked incredibly hurt, and she was trying to keep herself from crying as she argued with Scott. Then, a horrific change came over her. Jean's eyes became empty, and that inner fire returned. Much darker than ever before. She screamed in pain, which turned to ecstasy as the bird of fire surrounded her.

"_**No longer am I the woman you remember**_," the woman said in a voice that became more than her own. "_**I am Fire and Life Incarnate. I. Am. Phoenix!**_"

She disappeared, and I could feel what Rachel had been feeling in that moment when she had let go of my hand. Horror. Fear. Loss. Confusion. Anger.

"I don't know what's going on," Rachel told me when she let go of my hand. "I'm scared. . ."

Rachel became very pale, and she screamed. She clutched her head and fell to the ground in pain. I was at her side, trying to comfort her as best I cold, but I had no idea what I could even say to her. I sort of had to watch and wait for the moment to pass and hope for the best for her.

She relaxed, but she still looked pretty weak and shaken.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "Are you going to throw up?"

"I'm. . .okay," she chose her words very carefully. "My mom has done something horrible, Becca."

"Like how bad?" I braved myself to ask.

"She created a supernova," she told me. "Far away. . .she killed billions of people, and I felt them die." She closed her eyes and allowed herself to breathe. "That's not the worst part. Mom liked it. . ."

* * *

><p>We were at Dr. McCoy's home, I had an arm wrapped around Rachel's shoulders as I quietly spoke to her as we waited for him to open the door. It was decided we could get his help because we had not idea what was happening or who else to really talk to about all of this. If anyone knew what could be done about what was going on, it would have been him.<p>

"What's going on?" He asked us, and he let us into his home.

"My mom's doing something pretty bad," Rachel said, and she told him everything that had happened.

He closed his eyes. "That is serious."

"What are we going to do?" Rachel asked him.

"I'll take us back to the Mansion," he told her. "And, you'll tell Charles about what you had felt."

"This is far beyond what we're doing on Earth," I replied. "This is space. Light years away. . ."

Rachel was silent for a moment. "There's a lot more than you know about the X-Men."

* * *

><p>"Your dad decided he was going to have an indiscreet affair with Emma Frost," I told Nate over the phone on the plane to the Mansion.<p>

"I felt that she was very upset," Nate told me.

"An argument wasn't all she had done," I told him.

"I noticed that, too," he told me. "What are you guys going to do?"

I was quiet for a moment, so I could really think. "I have no idea. She did something really bad. I don't think anyone's gong to let it slide."

"Especially Mom," he said. "Help her. . .know what she did. . ."

"You know what she might do," I warned. "She's not the type of person who will tolerate having don something that horrible."

Nate was very quiet for a moment. "Then. . .it would be her choice. . ."

* * *

><p>We walked into the Mansion, and even though it was the weekend, it was very quiet and subdued. The students were standing around the school grounds, quietly speaking with each other, and some of the younger students were crying.<p>

"Lilandra has shown up already," McCoy remarked.

"Who?" I asked him.

"She's an old friend of Charles'," he said. "You'll understand when you meet her."

That didn't really sit well with me, but I did somehow manage to keep my opinions to myself.

Dr. McCoy led us through the Mansion to Charles' office, and even from the hallway, I could see Logan outright glaring at Scott whose face was in his hands and shoulders shaking. It was his fault, but I wasn't going to say anything in that moment.

There was a woman speaking with Charles in some kind of language I couldn't really recognize. She had a very striking appearance. Her hair was dark black and almost feather-like, and her skin was pale. She was very delicately built, almost bird-like, and there were small shots of feathers that matched her hair color along her arms.

She stopped talking and studied me for a moment, probably very unsure about me or if she should trust me to be there.

"This is Rebecca Tjaden," Hank quickly said, introducing me to her. "She's helping me right now."

"And. . .she's a friend of mine," Rachel said.

The woman nodded. "I am Lilandra the Majestrix of the Shi'ar Empire."

"That means she's both the political and the spiritual leader of a larger intergalactic empire," Hank explained to me, and I quietly acknowledged my understanding.

"One Shi'ar ship was in the area when. . ." Lilandra looked at the guilt-ridden and grief-stricken Scott Summers, so she decided to choose her words very carefully. "It happened. They barely reached safety."

"She's possessed by something," I said. "What's up with that?"

Lilandra studied me for a moment, surprised I was able to come up with that in the first place.

"It is the Phoenix Force," she explained to me. "It witnessed the death of the old universe and the birth of another, and it had a hand in the creation of the powerful forces of nature that would make the universe work. The Phoenix Force creates life and makes sure life can move on as much better than before. The Shi'ar worship the Force as a god from our earliest of histories."

"Okay. . .so why was she possessed?" I asked.

"It has no body like Galactus," she explained. "But, like Galactus, the Phoenix Force needs help to supplement its great power. A powerful telepath would be preferred. Somehow, Jean was dying, the Phoenix Forse sensed her, and it was able to keep her form dying as she was able to supplement its power."

"Mom had control over it," Rachel said. She actually glared at her father. "She just let her emotions take control of her."

"You lose your control," Lilandra said. "The Phoenix Force will control you."

I shook her head. "It goes beyond that. If she just lost her emotions, she would have fried Frost or Scott, not turn into some god-like being and do god-like stuff. Someone convinced her that with that immense power, she was basically a god. In her mind, she was power, and she could do whatever she had wanted."

Everyone was silent as those words started to sink in. Who would do something like that? Why did they think it was going to work?

Lilandra became very grave. it was like she knew what she was going to say to all of us would be very hated by all of us.

"She killed billions of people," Lilandra was saying. "There is only one thing that must be done."

"Remove the Phoenix Force," Scott said, finally looking up from his grief and guilt. He had no right to be hopeful. It was his affair with Emma Frost that made Jean suddenly and dramatically snap. He was her only tether to the human part of her.

Lilandra closed her eyes and shook her head. "This is much more serious than that."

"Taking away the thing that's possessing her will solve everything," he was saying.

I reached out and squeezed Rachel's hand for support and reassurance for her. She looked back at me, and I could tell she knew what had to be done in that sort of situation.

"Dad. . ." Rachel was saying, and her voice cracked a little. She reached out to her father with her free hand to rest on his shoulder. "Mom still killed billions of innocent people. . .it doesn't really. . .she. . ."

Rachel could not speak about it. Her grief was that bad. She could understand the situation much better than most people who were still in the naive world of childhood.

"Shi'ar justice will prevail," Lilandra said, looking away from Charles. She knew he would not like what she would have to say to all of us. "Death of the accused is the only acceptable end."


	60. Chapter 59

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p><em>"Death of the accused is the only acceptable end."<em>

When those words began to sink in, Scott was quickly on his feet, full of the scary and almost beserker-like rage that never would have affected him. I narrowed my eyes at him, but I kept my opinions to myself. He was one of my dad's oldest friends, and they both still thought highly of each other. This whole think was his fault in the first place. He had no right to act all outraged and full of love for Jean, and if I still had my powers, I would have firebombed him. It was all very unacceptable.

"You can't make that choice," Scott snapped at Lilandra. "That's unacceptable."

Lilandra still managed to keep her emotions under control as she listened to him rant and rave at her. She was involved with politics if she could handle all of that with grace.

"Or, I could do the only honorable thing," she was saying. "Set off a device on this planet the moment she wold arrive that would destroy everything." She paused for a moment to allow her words to sink in. We were all pretty horrified at that sort of punishment. "Genocide cannot go unpunished. I will be leaving with Jean Grey, and your planet will be saved as the price for blood appeased."

"How about you remove the force that's containing her and imprison it?" I suggested. "But for the unwanted possession, she wouldn't have caused that genocide. She cares about any living thing."

Lilandra was silent for a moment. "The only possible way to remove the Phoenix Force from the host it would have complete control over would be to kill the host in such a way that. . ." She looked at the father and the daughter. "There is only one known way. . .and I am truly sorrowful over what must be done."

I pressed my lips together. "There is always another way."

* * *

><p>I was pacing around Rachel's room, pulling at my hair as I started to think. Rachel was watching, and if she had not been so much worried about her mother, she would have been very entertained by all of the weird things I would do when I'm trying to think of something.<p>

"You know they're all going to act before you think of something," she finally told me.

I stopped pacing and sighed. "I know. They're all going to do something stupid. I can't believe she doesn't even try to think of something besides killing your mother to free her from the hold of the Phoenix Force."

"She said if was difficult and almost impossible," she said, grimacing a little.

"Almost," I said. "I like those odds."

I started to look at all of the pictures of Rachel and her mother in her room. They were always pretty close, and their bond had always been pretty strong. That was probably why Rachel was able to sense what her mother had done. It all had made sense in that moment.

"Do you still have that mental link?" I asked her.

"Yeah," Rachel said. "She's coming back."

"Still pretty strong?"

"Stronger. . ."

"Then, I have an idea," I said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as I quickly told her my plan.

We both knew that it wasn't going to end well, but we felt it should end on her own terms. For some reason, we thought that would've been better.

* * *

><p>Charles was able to locate Jean in New York City, and it was a mad race of who would be able to get to her first. It was a very awkward flight to the city. Everyone was staring everyone else down, trying to see what they were going to do. We didn't talk to each other because none of us was even sure anyone else was on our side or what they were going to do.<p>

If anything was going to pull us apart, it was going to be what needed to be done with Jean Grey.

Me and Rachel stayed close to each other for the whole flight and when we had landed. We were going to wait for the right time to act. Probably when everyone was too busy arguing with each other.

There was an old guy, wearing dark glasses and a white mustache, watched us all pretty closely. He seemed to be busy playing chess with another old man.

"Excelsior!" The man yelled after winning another game.

Jean was looking up at Stark Tower, probably trying to remember That Day in New York when the Chitauri swarmed the city. It was the sight where she helped the Phoenix Force repair the tear. Lilandra made one small movement, and Logan swung out his arm in front of her, blocking her path.

"Not one move," he growled. "Not one move."

"You must understand," Lilandra told him. "It is for the best."

Scott shook his head. "You're not even trying. You have no right to make those kinds of decisions."

"It's to protect the whole universe," Lilandra told him. "The Phoenix Force has too much control over her. The universe will be ripped apart."

Rachel and I made eye contact with each other, and I gave her a small nod. She walked towards her mother, unseen by everyone else. Jean turned around to see Rachel, and she almost looked like her old self the moment she looked at Rachel. Their mother-daughter mental link was stronger than ever before.

Jean reached out a hand for her daughter. The faint bird-like fire started to surround her, and Rachel took a hold of her hand. Mother and daughter looked at each other as Rachel mentally showed everything she had felt her mother had done when she completely lost control of the Phoenix Force, and with each passing moment, Jean began to look more and more human.

"What have I done?" Jean cried, clutching her head.

Everyone stopped arguing with each other to watch the scene begin to unfold around them. The bird-like fire became stronger for a moment, but it started to find and distort around her.

"This is. . .this power is horrible. . ." Jean said. "I don't want it. . ."

The light rose up into the sky, and Jean collapsed to the ground, completely weakened. For a moment, Phoenix Force hovered over our head, and Rachel clutched at her head.

Lilandra walked towards the faint light, wearing a mysterious expression across her face. It was something she did not expect to have happen. No one could have control over themselves enough to turn about from that kind of power.

"It will go away," Lilandra said, tipping her head to the side. "It will atone for its destruction and pain."

The Phoenix Force disappeared, but when I looked at Rachel, her eyes had that tell-tale light to them. when I blinked a couple of times, I noticed that the light was long gone. I shook my head. Maybe I was just seeing things.

Scott was quickly at Jean's side, holding her to him. She had her eyes closed as a way to work to calm herself down over what she had just learned that she had done. Jean had deadened eyes, and they made my blood run cold. Something bad was going to happen with her directly in the center.

Scott took her back to the jet, doing his best to comfort her, but she was beyond devastated, almost completely broken. Nothing he was saying to her was making her feel any better. Rachel looked horrified, and she went to stop her parents from walking out of her sight. She knew something was going to happen.

A few agonizing moments passed before we could hear Scott's strangled and very agonized cries. We were there, and we cold see him cradling the now-lifeless body of the woman had loved for so long and had two kids with. Everyone could not remain emotionless. Jean was a friend for all, and her death cut through to everyone.

* * *

><p>"What happened?" The shaken Nate asked me over the phone.<p>

"Rachel appealed to the mother she was still linked to," I told him. "And, the thing that possessed her left, but. . ."

"Rachel had to tell her what she had done," Nate said, and his voice was starting to shake a little.

"Yeah. . .she couldn't live with herself over that," I said, slowly and carefully. It was like everything that had happened was my fault. "When she was alone with your father, she used her telekinesis to remove his sunglasses."

Nate was silent for a moment. "When this is finished, I want to be alone with the guy in charge. . ."

"Why?" I asked.

"He's not allowing me to really grieve," he told me. "I want to speak my mind."

"Don't do anything you would regret. . ."

* * *

><p>Before we left New York, the old man watched everything with a mysterious expression across his face. He seemed to know more about the ramifications of what had happened than anyone else around him. When he saw me, he decided to walk over to speak with me for whatever reason known only to himself.<p>

"She was considered to be like a god," he told me. "But, when she died, she was a human. That is what matters."

He went to walk away from me, so I quickly grabbed his arm to explain what he had meant by that. When I grabbed his arm, images flashed through my mind. Images that spanned eons of him only watching the events of my world, never once acting, but always observing how resilient human beings tended to be.

The old man was called Uatu the Watcher, and if you paid close enough attention to very important events, you would be able to see him in the crowds of people, just watching everything.


	61. Chapter 60

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>The funeral was very subdued. It was lightly raining, not making that day to seem any better than it ever was. My dad was walking with Scott, and he rested a hand on his old friend's shoulder during the service. My brother, Billy, was side-by-side with Rachel, and they were able to bond over something which I never thought would ever be possible. Billy never tolerated anyone he considered to be my friends. Nate was off to the side, watching everything and keeping his face covered, and from what I could see of his face, I could tell he was upset over what was happening.<p>

Words were said over her, but I did not really remember what was happening during the service. It was all pretty vague. I could still feel the guilt over what was happening. If I had not told Rachel what to do, then maybe Jean would have still been alive. Maybes and what-ifs.

After the service, things became more heated. Bitterness and anger were starting to happen how that the service was over. Logan walked over to Scott, giving him a murderous glare, so my dad had to grab his lighter. Just in case.

"This is on you," Logan said through clenched teeth. It looked like he needed to keep himself from ripping Scott's head off. "You have no right to show your grief."

This was when I started to act like my mother: Saying things without really thinking first.

"Neither should you," I snapped. He turned to glare at me, but he seemed to be pretty surprised at what I told him.

That was when my mom walked over to him. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders for support. She was glaring at Logan.

"She's only repeating what I told her," my mother quickly said at my defense, lightly squeezing my shoulder to keep me from saying anything more. "You didn't even know her, and yet, you claimed you loved her. That's not really love, if you ask me. . ."

She turned on her heel, and she walked away, not even looking back at him. I didn't really say anything and quickly followed her. Logan was staring back at her, unsure of how to really react to that. My mom could do that to the people she would encounter.

I watched my mom take the numb Rachel and the silent Nate by hand, and she had them sit with her. She started to quietly talk with them, making it sound like it was okay to cry over the death of their mother, but it was more than that, though. It's hard to describe without having been there yourself to really understand. She innately knew exactly what to tell them to make them feel much better than they were, and when she was done, she gave each of them a hug.

Much of what I do and say, I learned from her.

* * *

><p>I was going to leave with my parents when something caught my eye. A kid was looking directly at me, and his eyes flashed a bright yellow and almost reptilian look to them. I recognized "him" instantly, and I walked over to "him."<p>

"Well," I said. "You seem to be very happy."

"Things are looking up," the "boy" said, eyes flashing back to being normal. "All things considered."

"Surprising," I remarked. "Very surprising. Why are you here?"

"I've been told you wanted me to do something."

I looked around us, making sure no one was going to hear us, and I nodded. "Extra set of eyes. I'm not sure how or what you'll do, but I'll tell you when I do figure it out."

"It will get them back?" the "boy" asked me.

"Get them, get others," I answered, slightly correcting "him." "Stop Big Brother. Isn't it obvious?"

"I hope you know what you're doing," the "boy" muttered at me before he left.

"For everyone's sake," I said. "So do I."

* * *

><p>Steve was waiting for me when I walked back to the dorm room. He had his arms crossed and wearing a worried frown, and I could tell he knew what had happened in New York City.<p>

"Hey," I told him.

"You were supposed to stay out of trouble," he remarked, still pretty serious and worried for me.

"I did," I said, and he narrowed his eyes at me. "Mostly. . ."

"What possessed you to go to New York?" He asked me through clenched teeth.

"I was helping a friend who was trying to help her mother," I told him very calmly.

"Did that work?" He asked me, and he softened a little bit. He understood why I would risk my life to help a friend. It's what I would do.

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. "Not the way I wanted it to."

Steve went to say something, but the look I gave him must have made him rethink what he was going to say. He reached out to me and gave me a very light hug. For a moment, I stiffened at his touch, but after a while, I relaxed and buried my face into his chest. There was no tears at that moment. I think I was trying to come to terms with planning anything very dangerous and the many casualties that could happen.

"Does it ever get better?" I asked him, and he knew what I was asking him about.

"No," he told me very truthfully. "It makes you need to plan even better, so it would never happen again."

I looked up at him. "How do you do it?"

"I've always been doing," he told me. "I'm used to it."

"I hate this," I muttered, and he held me even closer to him.

"So do I," Steve said, and his voice was quiet. "It's why I worry about everyone's safety when I lead them."

We pulled apart, and Steve was looking at me. He brushed my hair out of my face, and he went to kiss me. We had our foreheads pressed together for that moment, and maybe. . .that was enough for me.

That was when Lauren pushed the door open. "Oh. . .Becca! Tell me when you guys are having a moment. . ."

* * *

><p>I walked through the Triskelion, and some nondescript agent was leading me to Alexander Pierce's office for some kind of meeting I understood nothing about.<p>

"How are your classes going?" He asked me when I walked into his office.

"Good," I said.

"And, the internship you settled on?" He asked, not really understanding why I chose the Department of Mutant Affairs over the Triskelion.

"I didn't settle on it," I quickly replied. My mother's Southern blood coming through in that moment, so there was a slight Southern accent when I spoke to him. "It's going good."

I guess that seemed to please him or something, but with anyone who came of age during the height of the Cold War and became involved with the intelligence community you could never tell. They're really good at keeping their expressions neutral.

"I am going to offer you a sort of part time job," he told me. "Only when you're not busy."

I quirked up my eyebrow at that. There was a part of me that loved that opportunity. The part of me my grandma had helped cultivate.

"What is it?" I asked, sounding pretty interested.

He explained what he wanted me to do, and I would see the potential for that sort of situation for myself and anyone with my plans.

"Sure," I said, knowing I should talk to my grandma or Fury. Something like that. "If I can really spare the time."

He seemed to be pleased about that, but again, you can never tell with people like him.

"You and Captain Rogers seem to be spending a lot of time together," he remarked.

I shrugged. "Yeah. . .and. . .?"

"Just showing my concern," he replied.

"You don't need to," I said, rolling my eyes. I just turned twenty, so no one should really worry about me. I could handle myself. I didn't need anyone to take care of me, especially Alexander Pierce.

"He saw his whole world change in what felt like moments for him," he told me. "That could mess anyone up."

"I'm helping him as best as I can," I told him.

"Are you even sure that's not going to be the problem?" He asked. "He could push you away when he doesn't need you. . ."

I rolled my eyes again at what he said. He didn't really understand what was happening between me and Steve. I didn't fully understand at that moment, but he really had no right to make any kind of comment about us.

"I don't think so," I said.

"You could get very hurt if you still do this," he told me.

"And, you're not my dad," I said over my shoulder as I walked out of the office.

"You need to be careful who you're associating with," he said. "Especially now. . ."

* * *

><p>My grandmother called me later that night. "He offered you the job?"<p>

"Yeah," I said.

"Good," she said. "He kept complaining and being offended you didn't choose to have the Triskelion for your internship."

"You asked him to offer me the job because he was annoying you?" I asked.

"That's what he thought," she remarked, and I could hear her smile on the other end. "But, it's not the only reason." She was silent for a moment to collect her thoughts. "You will post some certain things into their files they don't know about."

"Like what?"

"The retina scan of Nick's injured eye."


	62. Chapter 61

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Janet was showing me some footage from some kind of abandoned warehouse she had found with some friends one night. She would hold up an empty beer bottle, and she would drop it to the ground. It would disappear for a moment before it fell back to the ground. It kept doing that several times before Janet caught it.<p>

"How is that even possible?" I asked her.

Janet shrugged. "I don't know. It just sorta showed up."

Behind her a kid lifted a huge truck like it was nothing to him. Janet turned around to look at the kid, but she was acting like it was nothing new to her. She saw it all before.

"He's been doing that all afternoon," she told me. "Something's fucked up around here."

"Yeah," I said. "I can see that from here."

"Don't know what, though," she said, wearing a slight frown. "And, that's bothering me."

Behind her, I saw a woman with long, mousy brown hair stumbling into view. She looked pale and seemed to be unstable. There was something within her look that really bothered me. It was like she had encountered something very ancient, and she has no way of even understanding what was going on with her. Janet was trying to run towards her when when it started to pour rain all around her, and a tall, blond man wearing a suit of chain mail armor and a long red cape appeared out of nowhere.

"Do not touch her!" The man, Thor, yelled at Janet.

Janet didn't listen, and she still went to help the woman. The moment she touched her, a strange black light flashed between them, and Janet collapsed to the ground. Thor caught her before her head hit the ground, and he made sure she was going to be alright. I was too busy screaming when I saw that all happening, and that caught his attention.

"She should be fine," Thor said, trying to calm me down through Skype.

Another woman was there, seeing Janet on the ground, and she watched Thor disappear with the first woman with the mousy brown hair in a flash of rainbow colored bright light.

That was the last thing I saw of Janet at the time before the whole world realized Norse mythology may have actually been history and all of the nine worlds converged together. It all had to do with that strange dark light, and there was something about it that made my blood run cold and made me feel very uneasy. There was more to the dark light than we would have realized.

* * *

><p>I was pacing around the room, playing with my old class ring as I was trying to figure out what could be happening over in England. Janet had yet to call me back, so I was really starting to freak out. I hated the whole not knowing part, and I really wanted to throw up or just curl up into a ball and start crying.<p>

Steve was there, watching me with some concern, and he reached out to me to gently grab my arm to keep me from pacing and wringing my hands.

"She'll be fine," he told me. "You know she'll be fine. I think this would be no news is good news."

"I'd be more comfortable if she was by my side," I started to babble uncontrollably. "Or, if I was with her. Because, I would know what happened to her, so I could do my best to help her."

Steve pulled me to him, but I do remember how easily he managed to calm me down. I relaxed against him and closed my eyes, and he held me even more closely to him. Of course, that was when my phone started to go off like crazy.

"I think that's your friend," he quietly told me as he started to pull away from me.

I grabbed my phone, and I answered it. "Janet?"

"Hey, Becca." She sounded tired, and her voice sounded to be pretty rough. It was almost like she was hung over, but it was from whatever had knocked her out.

"Are you okay?" I quickly asked her. "What happened over there?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I have a killer headache, and this crazy lab assistant won't stop talking to me, not helping my headache," she told me, and she was starting to sound more like herself. She was really sounding much better than long before. "I don't know what happened. I touched her hand, and I saw nine worlds start to collide. . .or something. . ." Her voice became very faint as she was trying to process everything she was seeing. "Then. . .that was when it became very weird. . .I saw the stars of all of the universe. . .like that would ever make sense. . .it's weird. . ."

"But, you're fine?" I asked her again.

"Yes, Becca," Janet impatiently snapped back at me. "I'm fine."

"Keep me posted," I told her. "Please. . ."

"I know my shit," Janet said, wearing a small smile. I could hear it over the phone. "I'll call you."

"You better."

* * *

><p>The world became a very crazy place over Greenwich, England. Strange lights appeared in the sky. They seemed to be like eight other worlds becoming all connected which each other. All of the laws of physics became nonexistent and pointless in those days. Run through one place, and you end up running behind where you used to be running from. It was pretty insane. That was when all of the strange pale elves wearing black armor appeared.<p>

Janet quickly acted when she saw those strange creatures appear. She created her armor, and she started to fight those creatures to protect the people around her and get them to safety.

Everyone all around the world was watching that scene unfold of Thor fighting the head pale elf, and I would like to say that we were all transfixed over what was happening. The world was going to end, unless Thor did something heroic. It was pretty hard to tear your eyes away from it all.

When Thor defeated the head elf, there was a heavy silence all over campus as we were all trying to process what we had just seen. Then. . .we all started to cheer.

The world would live on. At least for another day.

* * *

><p>Me and Lauren were in the center of campus-wide party when Steve arrived. He watched me and Lauren dancing together and laughing at how ridiculous we looked, and he looked almost amused at what we were doing. After awhile, I walked over to him, laughing a little bit.<p>

"Hey," I said. My words slurred a little bit.

He quirked his eyebrow up at me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I told him. "Maybe had a little too much to drink."

Steve reached out to me to support me. "You need to be more careful. You're not a Mutant anymore. . ."

"Wrong words," I said, sounding pretty serious.

"That's not what I meant," Steve quickly said. "And, you know it. You don't have the same super-fast metabolism anymore. . .at least for now."

"Well. . .I am done. . ." I told him.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders to support me as we started to walk away from all of the revelry. I smiled up at him as we walked.

Something made us stop, and we were looking at each other. That was when I saw it. It was everything I had been worried about had been very wrong, and I saw a small part of the truth. It was something that had been growing for a long while between the two of us. It was a very deep feeling between the two of us. A feeling that had been built on trust and respect. He gently cupped my cheek, but we were still lost in each other's eyes.

Steve had the same kind of feelings I had. I could clearly see through whatever painful insecurities I had built up around us. Even though we didn't need to tell each other, I knew it. I could clearly see it. He loved me. . .

We quickly looked away from each other, our faces becoming very warm. When we looked at each other, again, I could still see the truth. I couldn't really say anything to him. My voice was long gone. Steve went to kiss me.

"I. . ." He was trying to say, but he was as tongue-tied as me.

I gave him a smile. "You don't need to say anything, Steve. I know."

His eyes flashed with some relief and a lot of amazement. "You're amazing. How could I ever get on without you?"

"Hm. . ." I said, wearing a half-smile and kissing him again. "Lost." My voice became very quiet and serious for him. "Just so you know. . .I feel the same way."


	63. Chapter 62

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Lauren pulled me into one of the dining locations on campus, and she was wearing a worried frown.<p>

"What?" I asked, and she had me face one of the television screens.

"That."

It was an aerial view of a street in Belarus. there was rioting, but that was nothing new in this world at that period of time. A few of the rioters were far too strong to be normal human beings, and when I narrowed my eyes at the screen, I could tell he was holding part of some kind of staff. There was a symbol burned on the street.

"Paper. . .pen. . ." I said, almost absentmindedly.

Lauren pulled out a notebook and one of her pencils, and I was able to copy the symbol that was burned on the ground and the grainy image of that part of the staff as best as I could.

"That symbol is for a pagan hate group," Lauren told me.

"I know," I replied. "But, they had to have gotten this symbol from somewhere."

"What do you mean?" Lauren asked me, confused at my sudden mysteriousness.

"My mammy," I told her, referring to my mom's mom. "Has that all over some of her stuff, and I'm pretty sure she's not a member of a hate group."

We walked out of the building, and I tore the piece of paper out of her notebook and folded it back into my pocket.

"Pagan?" She asked as we walked back to our dorm.

I gave her a light laugh. "She would say that it could still be pretty compatible with Christianity. Don't ask me how. Anyway, she turned her back on the Catholic Church when it turned its back on her daughter."

"So. . .she may or may not be pagan or something," Lauren said. "What's with the stuff?"

"That's a very good question," I said, thinking out loud to myself. "I remember her having a very old case, but I think this is much different."

"So. . ." Lauren said.

"Just wondering what was happening," I remarked. "If it's connected to Greenwich, or. . .much older."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Lauren remarked.

"Good thing I'm not a cat," I replied.

"That's really stupid," Lauren told me. "You suck at witty comebacks."

* * *

><p>There was nothing about that hate group in the news for awhile. They were just playing and replaying that initial footage from before. It was only when I was thinking about going to bed did they finally explain what happened to that group. Most of the group, the more important members, were found in some very old monastery in Ireland, and they looked like they had the crap beaten out of them.<p>

Nothing more than that.

I could say that it was something. . .someone. . .lost to an uncontrollable frenzy.

My phone went off, and I went to answer it.

"Ward?" I asked. "You sound like shit."

"I touched an ancient Asgardian artifact," he explained. "It made me relive some of the worst parts of my childhood."

"And, you become faster and stronger," I said for him. "A Beserker's Rage."

"How did you know about that?" He asked me.

"I have Viking blood flowing through my veins," I told him, remembering everything that my mammy had told me about her ancestors, to be proud of our blood. "Both sides of my family. I know of the Warrior's Rage." I became quiet. "How are you holding up?"

"Better than you would think," he said. I heard a woman's voice in the background of the other end.

"Is that Skye?" I asked, straining to recognize the woman's voice.

"No," he said, and his voice was pretty dark for a moment.

"Wait. . .that's not Skye," I said. "What's her name? May?"

"There's a reason why she was called the Cavalry," Ward quickly said.

"I know. . ." I said. "I guess I don't understand the whole sharing your horrible experiences thing."

"That might be a good thing."

"The plane is small," I replied. "Be careful."

"It'll be fine," he said to me. "Not a problem."

"When this is over. . ." I said. "She might understand, but it might take me awhile to convince her." I paused for dramatic effect. "And, you would be in the hospital probably before she would decide to listen. That doesn't even count the whole believing me when I talk to her thing."

"Don't joke about that."

"I'm not joking about it," I said. "That was a statement of fact."

* * *

><p>I gave Steve a light kiss when I saw him. "So. . .my mom called me. She wouldn't mind if you join us for Thanksgiving with her family in Louisiana."<p>

"So," he said, wearing a small smile and eyes full of amusement. "You're inviting me?"

I smiled back at him. "Yeah. . .I guess I am. . ."

His smile became a little bigger at that moment. "I could come along. . .Louisiana. . ."

"Yeah," I told him. "My mom's family. We switch every year on who we would spend Thanksgiving with. Luck you. . .the first one would be with my mom's family."

"It can't be that bad," Steve said.

I cackled a little at that. "You're saying that now." I looked up at him. "It's a large family. . .mostly French, and she had six sisters and one brother."

"I could feel bad for your grandfather and that one brother," Steve said. "For most of the month. . .every month. . ."

I cackled some more at that. "Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?"

He lightly shook his head at me. "Really?"

"You're always too serious," I remarked. "This is totally out of character for you. . ."

Steve wore a very small smile, and he reached out to me and pulled me to him. "Maybe I'm realizing I don't need to be too serious when I'm around you. . ."

"Still. . ." I told him. "You'll have a very interesting time with the family. . ."

"They can't be that bad."

"Oh, I don't think they are. . ." I agreed with him, sounding almost playful as I spoke to him. It sounded like I was going to really enjoy what was going to happen when he was coming with me to Louisiana for Thanksgiving. "It's just that I have an aunt. . .we're pretty tight since we're close in age. . .who owns a sex shop. . ."

"Right. . ." Steve said. "That doesn't mean anything."

"You'll see. . ." I told him. "I learned a lot from her. . ."

Before he gave me a light hug and kiss goodbye, we walked, and he looked a little frazzled at whatever the possibility may have been.


	64. Chapter 63

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>We were in the middle of the crowded airport in New Orleans, pulling the light luggage behind us. Steve was having me go ahead of him because I knew what my mom's family looked like, and he still had that need to look for any kind of threat that was behind us or ready to attack us at any kind of moment.<p>

I saw a woman a little old than me waiting for us. She wore brightly, mismatched clothing and noisy and flashy jewelry. Her auburn hair was pulled up into a messy bun that had mismatched chopsticks sticking out from it. Some strands of her hair showed that it was still pretty curly, no matter what she would to get rid of it, and through that hair there were dark blue and purple colors that would clashed horribly with her hair. She never cared about that, but she was still a sight to behold. She was my aunt Tabby, the one born almost a year before I was. I caught her attention, and she quickly walked toward us.

"Hey, Bee," She said to me as she tightly hugged me. "So glad to see you!"

"Hey Tab," I said, awkwardly hugging her back. "How's it going?"

"Oh. . .you heard it. . .I'm running my own business," she told me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. She saw Steve, and she started to wear a knowing smile. "I'm sure you two would be very interested in the store." She cackled a little to herself when I rolled my eyes at her. "I'm Tabitha Gautier, by the way. I'm her mother's youngest sister."

"I'm Steve Rogers," Steve told her, starting to be a little unsure over my aunt. She used to get that a lot whenever she would meet new people.

I did catch Steve looking very quickly between the two of us, but I was pretty sure there was that knowing look within them.

"What?" I asked him as we put out bags in my aunt's car.

He gave me a small chuckle as he shook his head. "Nothing. Just things were really starting to make sense."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Not much of an answer."

"Didn't really think I needed them," he quickly replied as he stooped into the car.

Tabby snorted when she heard all of that, and she quirked up an eyebrow at me. I rolled my eyes at her.

She sped through the streets of New Orleans, and she weaved through the traffic. It was insane, but I came to accept that from my aunt. I looked back at Steve, and he seemed to be pretty amused over what was going on, but he was really holding on to his seat for any kind of stability whenever Tabby made too drastic a turn.

"Home sweet home, Bee," Tabby told me as she turned off the car. "Everyone should be inside."

I walked with Steve, holding out a hand for him to take. He took my hand as we walked, and I gave him a smile.

"Here goes," I said to him, and I opened the front door.

My mammy immediately pulled me into a bug, talking excitedly at me in French, and she kissed both of my cheeks.

"Look at you!" She finally switched to English. "You look so grown up, so beautiful!"

"Thanks. . .Mammy," I said uncomfortably, not really liking those types of compliments.

She turned her attention to Steve, and she gave him a bright smile. "You must be Steve Rogers!" She batted away his hand to give him a hug. "It's good to finally meet you!"

"Mom," Tabby warned, but her eyes flashed playfully. She was amused about what was happening. "You might scare him away."

"I am not!" She said to Tabby. At Tabby, her voice was sharp and serious of a mother trying to keep her daughter under control. Never really worked now that Tabby was in her twenties, but she still tried. Her voice changed when she directed her attention back to Steve. "Come on in. Everyone's inside."

Everyone was gathered together, talking loudly in both French and English. When they saw Steve, they warmly greeted him like he was a part of the family. No questions asked.

Throughout the night, Steve would look back at me, wearing a knowing expression and a small smile.

* * *

><p>When I had the chance to talk to Mammy alone, I showed her the symbol I had copied from the news. She studied it for a moment.<p>

"I'm not a part of that pagan hate group," she said. "I don't hold the same beliefs that they did."

"You don't know how to hate anyone," I remarked.

"That priest. . ." She spat, and her voice was pretty acidic and so full of hate. She spoke about the priest who basically told my mom that he much rather she abort her first child (me) then her giving birth to a Mutant's child.

"Anyway," I said, quickly changing the subject from that very sore topic within the family. It was why Mom's family turned their backs on the Catholic Church. The Vatican had never been very receptive of Mutants. "Why do you have that symbol on all of the old family heirlooms?"

"It's a symbol of our connection to the gods," she explained. "Or in this case the Asgardians who protected our ancestors. The symbol had to do with the great potential each human in the world would have within them. We could be gods. . ."

"I can see why the pagan hate group would love that symbol," I remarked. "Why are there so many people here who would ruin perfectly good symbols?"

"Because they cannot create their own?" Mammy suggested.

I showed what I tried to copy from the news. It was all pretty vague because I couldn't really draw at all. "What about that?"

She looked at it for a moment before looking at me. "It's supposed to be a part of a staff."

"I know you have a smaller part. . ." I told her. "Somewhere. . ."

She shook her head. "Not out loud. Please. But. . .it was given to our ancestors who later settled in Normandy. It's supposed to bring the Warrior's Rage to protect their family and people. It was broken into parts and spread through the family to keep anyone from having that kind of power."

"But. . .you still kept it," I said. "For when you need it?"

She shook her head. "You don't need it. It's in you. . ."

I gave her a strange look, but she still refused to even say anything more to that. She thought I would understand what she had told me even though it might take me awhile.

"Guess they didn't really understand what they were getting themselves into," I mumbled.

"They chose that symbol," she said to me. "They've had a lot of things done wrong." That was when she decided to change the subject, looking out of the window. Steve was with my youngest brother and some of the younger cousins, playing football with them. "You chose well. . ."

I rolled my eyes. "There really was no choice involved."

"I know," she said. "But. . .you chose not to push him away. You chose to be close to him. You chose well."

"Still not about choice," I said.

"You think too much," she told me. "Too German." She grabbed a large platter and motioned for me to help her. "This might help you to become more French."

"Haha," I deadpanned as we walked out of the house and into the insanity of the large backyard. "Funny."

Me and Steve made eye contact with each other, and the world died away around us as we both smiled at each other.


	65. Chapter 64

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>We were surrounding a table full of Mammy's cooking. I was sitting next to Steve, and he seemed to be at home in all of the chaos. He belonged. There was several conversations going on at the same time, half in English and half in French. Everything was loud and boisterous.<p>

"They do that all of the time," I quietly told him. "They forget they do it, sometimes."

"I know French," he told me. "It's not that hard to follow."

"You know French?" I asked.

"When you're going through Occupied Europe," Steve told me. "It was best to learn their languages. They trust you more when they can understand you."

I quirked up an eyebrow at him before giving him a small smile. "Makes sense."

He gave a light chuckle before one of my younger cousins caught his attention. The boy's name was Henry, and he was six but looked younger. He loved to ask all kinds of questions because he wanted to know how the world worked and was very curious about everything. Most adults who were not in the family would laugh them off and only say "how cute," but Steve took them all very seriously. He would look Henry in the eyes and answer them as seriously as he needed to be. Meaning: he could hold a normal conversation with a six year old boy.

I watched it happen with a small smile. There was something about it that really touched me. I would never mind watching that happen.

Tabby lightly elbowed me in the side, and she was wearing a knowing smile.

"What?" I asked her.

"You and Steve," she told me, picking the Cajun she guessed he would not be able to understand. "I can see it."

"And?" I challenged her. "So what?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," she quickly defended herself. "I'm trying to start a conversation. What's your problem?"

"There was someone who was trying to tell that it means nothing," I told her. "That person kept saying that it was for my protection."

Her light green eyes became hard. "Tell me who, and I can make them change their mind."

"Yeah. . .I really don't think you could get to him," I told her.

"Well. . ." Tabby said, seemingly accepting to cooperate with that piece of information. "There is that."

"It can be annoying sometimes," I admitted. "No one really wants to accept it. For a little while. . .I couldn't even accept it. . ."

"For the record," Tabby told me. "Anyone who really knows you understands. It's pretty damn obvious."

"Really?" I asked, surprised at her.

"Oh, yeah," Tabby said, wearing a small smile. "The Becca before she met Steve would never start a civil rights campaign or would be a music major, but _you_ did."

"So?" I asked.

"You're more assertive now that you met him," Tabby told me. "And, I think it's a good thing."

"Yeah. . ." I said, and I gave her a light laugh. "I guess it is."

* * *

><p>After the large meal was over, most of the adults were laying around talking or watching the game. Me and my younger cousins were outside, and I was telling them a story, becoming very animated and gesturing like crazy as I started to talk. My cousins were entranced as I talked at them, laughing like crazy when I was done with my story.<p>

Steve was leaning against one of the trees in the backyard with his arms crossed. He seemed to be pretty amused over what I had been doing for the younger cousins.

I walked over to him. "What?"

"You," he told me. "You never cease to amaze me."

"You're always saying that."

"Because it's the truth," he said.

Steve was smiling, but his eyes were dead serious. It made it difficult to look away from him, and there was really nothing around us when we were looking at each other. The world really melted away around us.

My mom coughed at us, and we quickly looked away from each other.

"The pie. . ." She said to us, looking between me and Steve.

We needed to talk, apparently.

My grandfather was in the center of the kitchen, and he was the one who was in charge of deciding how much of the dessert that any of us would get. He had to be very careful as he worked because some of cousins were pretty quick, and they would have been able to run off with more food than they should have. He would poke a fork at any of their hands when they would try to reach for another piece of any of the pies, but they would run away to laugh at him as they went to the side to watch him very carefully to do it again. It was still pretty funny to watch each time it would happen.

Mom pulled me aside when everyone was busy with eating and talking, so no one was really paying attention to the two of us.

"Yeah?" I asked her.

"I never really had a chance to talk to you," she told me as we sat down. "So. . .let's talk."

"Alright, Mom," I told her. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You and Steve, for starters," she said.

"Everyone seems to be a little too interested about us," I replied. "And, want to talk about us."

"Everyone knows about him," Mom said to me. She always knew exactly what to say to me to make me feel better. "His story. Or, at least they think they do. They're not really sure what to make of you, though. What is it about you that caught his attention? They're just curious. They don't know anything about you."

"It's annoying," I mumbled.

"I know," she told me. "But, you have noticed that your true friends and closest family members understand."

"Tabby said that."

Mom gave me a small and very light laugh. "A lot of people I went to school with felt the same way when they learned I was dating your dad. I was. . .me, and your father was more straight laced. They all believed it wasn't going to work out."

"They didn't really understand you two," I said for her, understanding her perfectly fine.

"We brought out the best in each other," she told me. "I can see that he brings out the best in you. . .and you bring out the best in him." She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a half-hug. "I can see you're happy. That's all I really want."


	66. Chapter 65

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>We were walking around the part of New Orleans my mom and her siblings had grown up in, and I was telling him all kinds of stories of what me and Tabby had done together when we were younger.<p>

"You were the trouble maker?" He asked me. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

I cackled. "Plausible deniability?"

He shook his head. "Or you sort of changed?"

I gave him a questioning look? "What do you mean?"

"You became quieter and more passive," he told me.

I pressed my lips together, and I had to agree with him. When I was younger, I was definitely more like my mother. Outspoken about what I believed or didn't believe, but as I was growing up, something changed. I got sick of people not even trying to take me seriously, so I thought it was much better to keep quiet and keep my opinions to myself. It was easier that way. The complete opposite thing of what anyone in my mom's family would do.

"Yeah," I agreed with him. "I did."

We were pretty quiet as we walked, but it was an easy silence. We didn't need to constantly talk with each other all of the time. I could be with him in silence. It all felt very right and very comfortable.

"Your family is very accepting," he remarked.

"Thanks. . ." I said, not really sure what to really say about that. "I've been very lucky to have my family's complete support. Most people like me have nothing. Just the few people like them who chose to support them."

Steve was looking at me, and he was wearing a very small smile for me. "You're more like your mother than you realize."

"I hope that's a good thing," I quietly replied, unsure about it.

He lightly shook his head at what I had said to him. "It's a very good thing."

Steve gave me a light kiss before we started to walk again, and I went back to telling him all of the old things I used to do with Tabby, making him laugh.

* * *

><p>I got a phone call in the middle of the night, and it was Ward. It had to do with what they were working on that had nothing to do with the Clairvoyant. A woman was being haunted by some past admirer who felt he still needed to protect her, and she felt truly horrible about that.<p>

"Do you know what Skye did?" Ward asked, almost sounding impressed with her.

"She talked to her?" I asked. "Shocking. . .not wanting to interrogate someone involved with strange things. . ."

"She was able to empathize with her," Ward said. "Few agents, if any, even bother to try."

"They're too busy being bad-ass bureaucrats," I replied. "They have rules and protocols they must follow, and the agent that doesn't. . .immediately demonize. . ."

My grandma hated that was how the organization turned into. Anyone who pushed the boundaries of their rules and protocols would immediately be suspect even though what they had done would ultimately serve an even greater purpose. The powerful people within S.H.I.E.L.D. were more comfortable with their agents blindly and numbly following all of their rules. It would be better that way, and it would make things much easier for them.

"You were probably right," he said.

"I know I was right," I said. "She sees the world differently than most people. That's what they need right now." I allowed that to really sink in. "How's May holding up. . .coming back into the field?"

Ward was silent for a moment. "Much better, I think. It's not the one thing she's constantly talking about. I think she might have started to look to the future more. . .if that even makes sense."

I ended the conversation, and I could see Steve in the doorway back into the house. He had his arms crossed, and he was studying me very carefully. The phone was quickly in my pocket.

"Yeah?" I asked him. I was not really sure how to figure him out. His expression was very unreadable at that moment.

"What are you doing?" He asked me.

"I was talking to a friend," I answered halfheartedly.

"You talk about S.H.I.E.L.D. with your friends?" He asked almost suspiciously.

"You'd be surprised," I replied, but I was little hurt by his suspicion of me.

"What were you really doing?" He asked me. Steve took a few steps closer to me, and he narrowed his eyes.

I pressed my lips together. I really wanted to tell him everything and get his help and input, but I had to be realistic. It would all fall apart if more people knew all of the finer details. There would be a time to tell him everything, but it wasn't right at that moment.

"A side project, then," I told him, telling the truth without the full context. "For my grandma."

Steve shook his head. "You could tell me. I can help you, you know."

I closed my eyes for a moment. "I know. I know, but. . ." My voice faltered for a moment. "I will tell you everything. Everything. Just not now. Not yet."

I went to walk passed him, but he grabbed my arm to keep me from going anywhere. He had me looking up at him.

"Really?" He asked me, sounding pretty incredulous. "Why do I find that so hard to believe?"

"You really need to trust me, Steve," I quietly told him, and my voice faltered a little bit. "You do, don't you?"

He looked down at me for a moment, and his eyes became a little hotter as whatever he was thinking about passed through his mind.

Against my better judgement," he finally told me.

"Then," I said, looking him directly in the eyes and hoping he would understand. "You can trust me through all of this. I will tell you when I need your help. It's just not now. The time ain't right now."

We looked at each other, and I could tell we were at an impasse. He wanted me to tell him what I was working on and though I wanted to tell him everything, I couldn't. But, I could tell I had his trust.


	67. Chapter 66

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>For a little bit that morning, me and Steve would not really speak with each other, unless we absolutely had to. It really cut through to me when he barely acknowledged me, so I really wanted to cray at that moment. It hurt, but I pulled the pain inward, not really wanting to deal with it at all in that moment. Tabby could see that happening, and she was wearing a frown directed at me. I only shrugged at her, not really wanting to argue with her at all.<p>

I think she got fed up with that, and she pulled me and Steve aside, yelling at us in French and English.

"Tab," I kept telling her over and over again. "Slowly. Please. Even I can't understand you."

She took a deep and calming breath. "You really need to get over yourself, Bee. You don't need to pull away from everyone whenever you become close to them."

"I'm not pulling away from him," I told her, looking up at Steve. That look we shared changed, somehow. We weren't as frosty with each other as before. "We had an argument."

"You had an argument?" Tabby asked, almost incredulous over what I had admitted. "You had an argument? You just stopped. . .?"

Me and Steve were very sheepish and shy as we were only focused on each other. She did kind of caught us.

"Yeah. . .we kinda did," I admitted.

"You. . ." Tabby shook her head for a moment. "Can be ridiculous sometimes. You two still need to talk it out. Like actually talking it out. . . Right here and right now." She crossed her arms at she sat on one of the lawn chairs that was still outside. "I'll mediate."

"Why?" We asked at the same time.

"Because, Bee," she replied almost sweetly. "You might just accidentally kill him if you get mad enough, and I don't want you to live with that kind of pain and regret."

"She would not get that mad," Steve said almost in my defense.

"Wow. . .it must be great to see the good in everyone," Tabby quipped rolling her eyes. "But, you clearly have not seen her that furious."

Me and Steve looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what we could even say to each other.

"Why can't you tell me the truth?" Steve asked me, still pretty hurt about it.

"I can't tell you," I told him. "Not now, anyway."

"I've been free with you," he remarked. "But, you're still holding back from me."

I went to say something, but I shook my head. There really was nothing I could say to him. He was completely right, and I felt bad about withholding certain information. Steve had every right to be mad at me. I expected him to trust me, but I relaxed to really tell him why.

"My grandma's been working on something," I admitted. "She told me to keep quiet when she wanted my help."

"Since when do you listen to people telling you what to do?" Steve asked. Almost understanding me. Almost.

"My grandma knows her shit," I told him. "I would listen to her."

Steve went to say something, probably to argue with me over something, but Tabby quickly shook her head.

"Her grandmother was a legend in S.H.I.E.L.D. during the sixties," she explained for me. "This was during a time when women weren't really regarded as much in the intelligence community."

"She left active duty during the late sixties early seventies," I quickly said.

Steve quickly did the math. "To start a family."

I looked at him. "That was the reason she gave. Yes."

Steve looked back at me, and he shook his head. He had to accept what I had told him.

"You really can't tell me?" He asked me.

"Not now. Not yet," I told him. "But, I will tell you when the time is right."

"Now. . ." Tabby said, greatly please at how well that had worked. "Kiss and make up."

We looked at her, and she shrugged before she walked away from us, giving us some privacy. Her cackling laughter could be heard. Steve gave me a very light kiss, and when he pulled away slightly, he rested his forehead against mine.

"I will trust you," he quietly told me. "Even when you make it very difficult for me, but do you trust me?"

"Completely," I said to him. "Without even thinking about it. . .I trust you."

He looked me directly in the eyes for several moments, allowing my words to sink in.

"I have a feeling me might need that," he quietly told me. "For some reason. . .I keep thinking about something bad might happen. . ."

"That feeling's also pretty mutual," I muttered, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in just a little closer to him for some kind of comfort.

* * *

><p>I couldn't really sleep, so I was up pretty early on day me and Steve were to go back to D.C. I carried my bag into the main room to have nearby before we left, and I was pretty quiet. Nobody really heard me. Steve was already awake, probably coming back from an early morning run around that part of New Orleans, and was drinking some water and thinking pretty hard about something else entirely.<p>

Billy walked into the room, grabbing some food, and he gave Steve a suspicious look.

"What?" Steve asked him, confused by my brother's reaction at him.

"You and my sister," Billy told him, glaring at the older man. "You need to know some ground rules."

I rolled my eyes. Everybody in my family really needed to learn how to mind their own business. They really should have understood that our relationship was our own. We would deal with our problems in our own way.

"Yeah?" Steve said, probably seeing where my brother was going with their impromptu conversation.

"Disappoint my sister," Billy said, giving the older man an icy glare. "Or hurt her in any way. . .you'll really regret it."

"I would never. . ." Steve was trying to say.

"Then," my brother told him. "You have nothing to really worry about."

I tossed my bag on the floor and started to make as much noise as I needed to draw their attention to me.

"Morning," I said, yawning a little bit as I walked passed my brother, and I lightly elbowed him in his side. "Boundaries, William. Boundaries."

"I got your back," Billy quickly said to me.

"Still. . .boundaries, William," I told him. "You don't have me messing in your life."

Billy rolled his eyes. "You do realize there are people who would do anything for you."


	68. Chapter 67

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>After Thanksgiving break, the fall semester was moving quickly towards its conclusion, and with studying for my classes, my internship, my kind-of job at the Triskelion, and my side project for my grandma, I really had no time to spend with Steve much less talk with my family back at home. I was starting to become very frazzled, and there were times when I just wanted to back down and cry because the work just kept coming and coming without end.<p>

I was sitting in the library, completely engrossed with my studying that I didn't notice an older woman storming through the library. She was short, but her personality and loud voice pretty much made up for it.

"I'm looking for Rebecca Tjaden," she was talking at some poor freshman at the help desk at the front of the library.

Whatever that could have meant, it probably wasn't good. I hid even more in one of my books. If I couldn't see her, she couldn't see me, and then she would leave. Anyone asked for me by my full name could never be good. Unfortunately the freshman must have known who I was, and he actually pointed her in my direction, probably very relieved that she was going to be done with him.

"I guess you wanted to talk to me?" I asked, resigned with what was going to happen.

"Yes," she said, and her voice had a slight Southern accent to it. "Grab your stuff. We'll talk on the way."

I quickly listened to her. She was like my grandma. If she wanted you to do something, you better do it. It would be easier that way. Much easier. My books and notebooks were shoved into my bag, and I quickly walked with the older woman.

"I'm Caroline," she told me. "And for your sake, I hope you won't ever meet me again."

"Okay. . ." I said as we walked to her vehicle. "What did you want to talk to me about? If it's about my brother. . .you know I won't testify against him. . ."

"Not that, Cheri," she said as she started to drive away from campus. "Though, I have a feeling we might have that conversation another time. No. Something happened, and one of the scientists I work with mentioned you can get a hold of some people who would be able to help."

"Depends on what had happened," I mumbled, and she pulled into the parking lot to the museum and lab where those scientists apparently spend most of their time. She led me into the museum, and I was met by Dr. Brennan, holding her daughter very closely to her.

"They arrested Booth," she told me. "I need your help."

* * *

><p>I was sitting in her office, playing with her daughter who was cooing at me as her mother told me everything that had happened. They were uncovering some minor corruption within the FBI and the Department of Justice as a whole, and through that investigation, they made some very powerful people very uncomfortable. A crime was pinned on Agent Booth, and he was in the hospital recovery from a near death. . .or, according to the "official story," resisting arrest.<p>

"Who finally arrested him in the hospital?" I asked her.

"He acted like he was in the FBI," one of the scientists said. He had short, curly hair. "But, we all know he wasn't."

"He called himself Jasper Sitwell," Brennan told me.

I looked at her, feeling a sort of dread, and I pulled out my phone. "I'll help you, but you must do everything I tell you to do, alright?" She gave me a small nod to show her understanding.

I made a very important phone call to my grandma to set everything up.

"I know this is completely random, but is Booth an expert sharp shooter or something?" I asked her from my phone call.

She gave me a strange nod, unsure of my question. "I don't see what this has to do with anything."

"It's the most important thing," I mumbled and went back to talking to my grandma.

I ended the phone call and quickly made another, creating some kind of plan as i spoke with the person on the other end, and I really started to pace as I spoke. This sort of planning was very important and needed to be done as soon as possible.

"Alright," I said to Brennan. "I'm only telling you this. The less people who know the better, so then it might actually work."

Brennan nodded, and all of the scientists she worked with had to leave her office. I went to close her door and all of the blinds before I allowed myself to set in the chair in front of her desk.

"You should probably take a sabbatical," I told her. "Soon. Write your next book. Spend some time with your daughter."

"Why?" She asked me. "I don't see how that has to do with Booth's arrest."

"Let's just say that Jasper Sitwell is involved with a group of people who are on the look for certain skill sets," I told her.

"Booth's sniper skills," Brennan said, starting to understand.

"Exactly," I said. "They have this thing to get them to do what they want. . .an incentive program. Their loved ones would be gathered up, and their lives would be held over their heads to get them to follow certain orders."

"We're in danger," she said and shook her head.

I nodded. "Which why we're acting right now."

"I'm not the only person in his life," Brennan told me.

"Yeah," I said. "His son and son's mother are actually in Iowa City right now for her job, so anyone wanting to harm them would have some issues getting to them. The future lawyers love to see how far they can push that one law. Your brother and his family are in the same area where I grew up, helping a firefighter friend of my dad's with the automotive work. Your father would be leaving with you and your daughter."

"His brother, mother, and grandfather," she told me.

"I'll have my people keep an eye on them," I told her. "There are agents who only listen to my grandma." I paused for a moment, allowing everything to sink in for her. "We'll be going. Soon. Call your father." I handed her my cell phone because it was more secure than anything she would have used. "Looks like you're going to be spending your sabbatical in Middle of Nowhere, Iowa."


	69. Chapter 68

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>We made our way to some airstrip just outside of the city. Father and daughter packed light when their lives were in danger. The car was pulled into the airstrip where one pilot was waiting for them. My cousin, Wade, was willing to drop everything to help me help them. Was was going to fly them into Iowa that night before Sitwell would act against them to get Booth to do whatever they wanted.<p>

"Why Iowa?" Brennan's father asked me.

"There's this law that was passed over twenty years ago," I explained. "During the worst of the worst of the Anti-Mutant movements. Since Iowa was the largest Mutant population. . .proportionally, and all of the state legislators were either closeted Mutants or had family or friends who were Mutants passed a law that made it right to defend your home and family from outside threats."

"Hillbillies with shotguns and out for blood," her father remarked after my explanation. "What could possibly go wrong?'

I rolled my eyes. "There are very little hills where you're going. Anyway, they would be crazy and stupid if they try to go after you in Iowa."

Before she climbed onto the plane, Brennan lightly clutched my hand. "Thank you so much."

I accepted it very uncomfortably. "You should probably go. Safe travels. . ."

They were all on the plane, and I watched it take off for a moment before I quietly got back to my car and casually drove back to campus, reminding myself I should probably fill the car up for Lauren. I was praying that would not end terribly for everyone involved or at least all of the bad people would have horrible problems.

Lauren gave me a questioning look when I tossed her back her keys. I only shrugged at her and went back to sleep. She knew enough not to ask me about what I was doing, trusting me enough to know it was not that bad.

The next morning was a Saturday, and we spent the whole day studying or doing homework. It was half-way through the morning when there was a knock on our dorm room door, and Lauren answered it. There was Jasper Sitwell wanting to speak to me, and Lauren quickly grabbed all of her stuff and was gone from our room. She needed to study, and we would probably distract her.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked him, crossing my arms. I acted way too sweet to be a problem for him, and I sounded to be pretty clueless rather than suspicious.

"Some missing witnesses," he told me. "And, I have a feeling your fingers are all over it."

"Can you make it quick?" I asked him. "I have to study. . ."

"Just a few questions," he said to me, sounding a little understanding of me. "Your uncle is their attorney."

"So?" I responded. "It's his job. How else is he going to make money?"

"Right. . ." He said, almost being convinced, but he knew what was going on. Or, at least he thought he did.

Then he got a phone call, and he answered it, becoming a little pale as he listened to the woman on the other end speaking at him. Since she was a loud person on the phone, I could tell that it was my grandma chewing him out for being suspicious of my actions. She may have been dealing with cancer and in her early seventies, but she still struck fear into the hearts of all agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. They would automatically listen to what she wanted them to do, no questions asked. Sitwell quickly ended the phone call, hands shaking and skin starting to turn a little paler.

"Forget I was here," he quickly said, trying to keep his voice from shaking, but he only managed to make crack like probably back when he was in high school or something. "I was told you're clean."

He couldn't get out of my dorm room fast enough. I snorted a little at that. "I hope you have a nice day!"

That always helped. People never wanted to bring down my grandma's wrath. They weren't sure what she would do to them when they deal with her family. The Chessmaster was the master at coldly planning things, and she was ready for anything.

* * *

><p>I was wondering around campus one afternoon because I was starting to become very stir crazy and almost insane. There was no way anyone could even study forever without going crazy. Steve must have wanted to check up on me because he was back on campus.<p>

He walked over to me, lightly wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "How's it going?"

"I'm slowly becoming crazy," I told him. "I hate studying. Hate it. And, that's all I'm doing right now."

"You'll do fine," Steve told me.

I sighed. "I better, or my sanity would completely disappear."

Steve lightly laughed, and when I looked up at him, I could see his light, easygoing demeanor was barely even there. Something was truly worrying him, and there was nothing he could do to really fix it.

"What's wrong?" I asked him. I could feel pretty worried and concerned for him.

"A lot of the S.H.I.E.L.D. missions I've been on," Steve said to me, and he was wearing a frown of concentration as he thought back to everything that had been happening. "I'm cleaning up after Fury. Or. . at least I think that always seems to be the case. . ."

"Yeah," I agreed with him. "There's a lot more to what's going on than you really realize, isn't there?"

"A lot of the agents Fury has me working with are more violent than they should be," Steve told me. "I have a feeling that if Peggy. . ." he really needed to pause there. I didn't blame him. "Wouldn't have really approved of it."

I silently agreed with him. "They believe making threats and scaring people would get the information they would need. No one really wants to plan or think any more."

"Your grandmother disapproves?" Steve asked me.

"She's called the Chessmaster," I quietly told him. "She got her information through tricking people, or she extracted important people through her planning alone, no need to really kill anyone unless she really needed to. So. . .yeah. . .she disapproves."

"I don't know if I should still help S.H.I.E.L.D.," Steve admitted.

"Peggy and Howard helped found the organization," I suggested, wanting to feel that whatever I would tell him would help him feel much better than before. "There are still agents out there who are doing the right thing. Trust the spirit of the organization. . .even when the people in charge are little. . .duplicitous. . ."

"That's a very roundabout way of telling me to both trust them and not," Steve remarked.

"Yeah. . .well. . .you know my opinion about S.H.I.E.L.D. at this point in time," I told him, and he nodded. He understood that mistrust from S.H.I.E.L.D. dealing with known Mutants. "And, I can't really tell you objectively what you can or can't do." I paused for a moment as I was thinking about what I really and truly wanted to say to him. "There are few good people out there in this world, doing what was necessary and good. Maybe. . .or. . ." I stopped, trying to find the right words to say to him. "People need to see there's someone good out there. Sometimes that's all anyone ever really needs."

Steve gave me a light chuckle. "How do you get away with saying things like that?"

I smiled back at him. "That's because I spend most of my time with you."


	70. Chapter 69

A/N: Please read and review!

* * *

><p>My grandma was keeping an eye on Mike Peterson as he went through his intensive training for S.H.I.E.L.D. He was strong and fast from whatever that Centipede device had done to him, so he would be of great interest to anyone. How did that happen to him? Who was behind it all? She kept her eyes and ears open, and she told me everything she learned to better inform my own plans and actions. Everything was far too complex and time consuming, but all leads kept going back to the same few names deep within S.H.I.E.L.D.<p>

Proof positive. . .

One night I got a phone call from Ward, and he did seem to be pretty agitated over something. So, it was something pretty big.

"You remember Loki's scepter?" Ward asked me.

"Yeah. . ." I said, shuddering a little at what it had done before the Battle of New York. "No idea what they did to it."

"Coulson told me," he said, and he told me exactly where it had been hidden.

I pressed my lips together. "When the time comes, steal it. We'll destroy it personally."

"That's a big gamble," he told me.

"It should never even be here," I said. "It has far too much power, so it should really be long gone."

"Good point. . ." Ward agreed. "I'm sure he would love to hear about that."

"Yeah. . ." I said. "I bet he would."

The conversation ended, and I was starting to feel everything was starting to come together. Something big was going to happen. And soon. This was going to be a waiting game by that point, me waiting to get the correct pieces into play, but I can be very patient when I have to be.

* * *

><p>Finals ended, and I managed to survive it all. My brain was mush, but it was over. One more semester in D.C. and the, I could come back home and not have to worry about anything. Saying the correct things. Wearing the correct facial expressions. S.H.I.E.L.D. following me around.<p>

I went home, and my mom was waiting for me at the airport. She looked pretty exhausted, ambulance calls and the shortage of the nurses at the nursing home she worked at, but she still had a warm smile and a hug for me.

"Looks like you survived," she told me, wrapping an around my shoulders as we walked out of the airport.

"Yeah. . ." I said, starting to yawn like crazy. It had been a very long passed few days. I couldn't wait to go home and just sleep and sleep and sleep.

Mom drove us home, but she stopped to finish the Christmas shopping for the kids of my dad's brothers. She thought I would be able to help her with that, and I did. We spent that afternoon, laughing with each other. We made it home, and I immediately went my room to fall asleep.

I would have time to talk to my mom. It was Christmas break. There was more than enough time to be with my mom.

* * *

><p>It all started early the next morning. Billy was knocking on my parents' door to their room. Dad was the one who answered it. Even half-asleep I assumed Mom had already gone to work.<p>

"There's water all over the basement," I heard Billy quietly say. "I sounds like a rain forest downstairs."

"Well," Dad said, not sounding too happy, but he still sounded pretty calm and collected. "Go get some towels and do your best to clean it up."

"I don't think you realize how bad it is. . ." Billy said, but Dad suddenly interrupted him.

"Get the phone!" Dad said, and he was very, very close to freaking out. That didn't sound right. "Get me the phone! Now!"

I quickly rolled out of bed. Dad wouldn't have been freaking out about the basement flooding. Something else had to be happening. When I walked out of my room, I could hear Dad in the bathroom in his room, and Billy was running around the living room, trying to look for the house phone. When I walked out of my room, something made me bypass the parents' room and walk towards the living room to ask my brother what was going on.

"Hey," I got my brother's attention, and he suddenly turned around to look at me. That was the most agitated I've ever seen him. "What's going on?"

"I'm looking for the phone," he quickly told me. "Mom had an accident. Where's the phone?"

I grabbed it off the cluttered kitchen table and handed it to him. Why were we still in our pajamas? We should be outside, looking at the sides of the road for Mom's car. That was when I really started to look around the living room. Her coat was still hanging over the back of the couch, and her tennis shoes were still by the front door. Her car was still in the garage, and when I look at the clock, I knew she should have been at the work by that point of time. It started to dawn on me.

Mom never really made it out of the house.

I started to freak out on the inside, but I was not going to allow my emotions to show to my dad or my brothers. They needed me to be pretty calm and collected during all that was going to happen.

Everything became a messy blur. The EMT's mom would work with appeared, and we were out of the way in the living, listening to the AED every once in a while.

"No rhythm," ti would say. "Continue CPR."

It went on like that for a while. I'm not really sure for how long, though. All I can really remember was sitting in between my little brother and my dad, holding one of my dad's hands and wrapping an arm around my little brother's shoulder. Billy was sitting on the couch with his face in his hands.

There was a part of me that wanted to believe my mom would pull through, and we were going to spend Christmas with her in her hospital room. But, there was a growing part of me that made me realize that it was never going to be possible. This was the end. . .

The ambulance chief was talking to my dad, and I could tell by their body language that made me realize my worst fears were true. Mom had died, and it was not even possible for her to come back. This was not a nightmare. It was real life.

My mom died. My mom. . .was never going to dance around the house to her favorite music as she cleaned. she was never going to be my emotional support when I would need her the most. My mom had died. . .


	71. Chapter 70

A/N: Please read and review!

The ambulance crew stayed at the house as we waited for the funeral home guy to arrive and take Mom away. They were in the very damp room, never leaving her alone. Dad was not going to let us in the room, so we were in the dining room. All of the Christmas decorations were starting to really mock me. A solemn-faced deputy and old classmate of my dad's named Daniel Eden walked into the house. He clasped my dad's shoulder, being solemn and grim instead of the normal joking and teasing each other as old friends.

That was when you would know when something bad had happened.

I was still pretty numb to everything that had happened. Mom was supposed to be going to work that morning, and when she came back, we were going to make some lefse at grandma's house. I kept thinking about that, believing she would come back soon, so I had to remind myself the horrible truth every several minutes.

My mom. . .that random. . .kind woman. . .had died.

I wanted to throw up, but I couldn't really show my emotions because I needed to be the strong and stable support for the rest of the family. They needed me, I believed. I really needed to focus on something else entirely, so I started to clean around the living room, hanging coats and throwing the shoes/boots by the front door and did the dishes. It was all so I couldn't really think about what was happening around me. I really needed to be busy.

Billy was wandering around in the basement, and he was moving all of his stuff out of his room to keep them from being even more soaked and more ruined. Bobby was on the couch, humbly staring at the television screen and trying not to fall asleep. Dad and his deputy friend were trying to talk to each other about what had happened, and that old friend would support my dad through the worst that had happened that morning.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the house.

Not too long after everything started to calm down, though the funeral home guy still had to arrive, my grandparents came to the house. Grandma pulled Bobby into a hug, and she was actually crying. I almost lost it right there. My grandma never cried. She was a very strong woman, and she had kept her emotions in check, prided herself for keeping her emotions in check.

"Bobby. . ." She said, still crying. "I'm. . .so. . .sorry. . .for you. . .your mother will be very missed. . ."

She pulled me into a hug as well, and grandpa was quietly talking to Dad and offering some help and support to plan the funeral. My dad numbly nodded, and grandma was still hugging Bobby. He looked like he did not have a problem with that.

That morning was even more a blur. Me and my brothers were back in the wet basement as the funeral home people took mom. Dad did not want us to see the body bag Mom was in, so Billy was in his chair, turning the volume up on the television. None of us really wanted to hear what was going on upstairs.

I rested my head on the armrest of the couch and closed my eyes to be in a troubled sleep. For a moment, I was able to forget about what had happened to Mom and that morning had never happened.

That Sunday was very grim and very quiet. We had our minds on other matters. The Christmas tree Mom had labored over before I came back was a reminder of what should been a very joyful time, but it only added to that grimness. Dad was on the phone for most of the morning, breaking the dreadful news to her family and his. He was deeply shaken after each call because she had always been pretty close to her family. It was pretty clear they were upset over the horrible news. I could still hear their voices on the other end of the phone, showing their grief over they had heard.

I had to leave the room, and I could not handle it. My phone kept going off from friends, classmates, and acquaintances texting me that they were going to be there for me if I needed them and expressing their condolences for me and my family.

When Dad gave us the permission to tell our friends (if they hadn't already known), I pulled out my phone to call the one person I really wanted to talk to. I called Steve.

"Hey," I said when he answered the phone. My voice was hoarse, and it shook a little.

Steve knew me well enough to know that I was upset over something. I could tell he was concerned over something.

"What's wrong?" He asked, worry coloring his voice.

"My. . .mom. . ." I began, and I had to pause to take several deep and calming breaths. "She. . .she. . .died this morning. . ."

There was a pause, and I was so close to crying.

"Birdie. . ." He very quietly said. He used the nickname he took to calling me, and he was the only person who was allowed to use that name for me. "I'm so. . .sorry. . ."

He couldn't find any other words to help me feel better, not being there to do the support I would have needed. But, I thought his voice was really all I need to hear at that moment.

"I'll be there," he quietly told me, and I knew he was going to be there for me.

I needed him to be with me. There was a part of me that needed to be in his presence. He was going to be my rock and my stability.

"I. . ." I was trying to say, but my voice was shaking again. I was not going to cy. There was no way I was going to start crying. Not at that exact moment. "Know. . ."

"You can cry," Steve said to me. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

"Yeah. . .yeah. . ." I said, but my voice was still shaking pretty hard. "Yeah. . ."

I realized that was so little time in the world. It made me realize I could die tomorrow, and I realized there were many things I needed to say or do. Live each day like it was your last day. I was going to tell him what I was really feeling about him, vocalizing it would have made it seem very real even if he already knew, but it needed to be real, needed to be official. I opened my mouth, not even able to say it, and I closed my mouth. I could always tell him when he came back.

"I'll be there for you," Steve told me, and I could believe him. I needed to believe him.

People from around the community stopped by the house to offer their condolences and to leave specially made dinners that had been put together when they came back from church where the news had been broken to the whole congregation. They were genuinely shaken over her death. One of her bosses stopped by, and she was actually crying as she spoke to my dad.

"What are we going to do now?" She asked. "Jen had been a rock. . ."

She shook her head, and her shoulders were shaking for a moment before she quickly left the house. My dad and I looked at each other, and we both realized the same thing.

Mom was the rock of the community that no one was really aware of when she was alive. Now that she had passed away. . .

Billy and Bobby went to their friends' house, knowing they could feel much better if they were around their closest friends for a few hours. Dad was sort of retreating into himself. Mom brought out the lighter side of him and without her, he was much grimmer and darker. That was going to take a lot of time for him to even think to get over it.

His youngest brother walked into the house with his daughter, and Dad actually allowed him to give him a hug. They were quietly talking to each other. My cousin gave me a hug before she showed me what her mother's sister had given to her for Christmas.

"That's really cool," I told her, studying it very carefully before giving it back to her.

She looked up at me, very serious for a moment. "I know your mom's in Heaven."

She hugged me again when she said it, and I had to agree with her. She had to be in Heaven. It was the only way that would make this all seem much better.


	72. Chapter 71

A/N: Please read and review!

It was later that night when there was a quiet knock on the door, and I went to open it to see an empathetic and tired-looking Steve. He came into the house and brushed the snow off his head and shoulders, and he pulled me into a close hug. I started to shake in his arms when I had closed my eyes.

"It's okay," he quietly told me.

I started to really cry over what had happened that day. All of my emotions began to rush out, and I wasn't going to try to hold it all back. Steve supported my whole weight as I balled into his chest, and he was quietly speaking to me as he tried to comfort me as best as he could.

I pulled away from him, wiping my eyes, but Steve still made sure he still had an arm around my shoulders to make sure I would still have his support and strength. "Come in. . ."

He followed me into the house, and he would see that a normal Sunday had been interrupted by an unexpected tragedy. Mom's stuff was still where he had left them the night before to better grab them on her way to work in the early morning hours. None of us never really thought to move them. Billy and Bobby had taken wet objects up into the basement to try to freeze them in order to try to keep them and not have to throw them away.

We sat on the couch, and Steve had me look up at him. He gently wiped my tears from my cheeks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked me.

I grimaced a little, and my eyes started to water again. "I don't. . .know. . ."

Steve held me a little closer, knowing that I was even worse off. I started to hiccup a little, and he was quietly speaking to me, trying to find a way to help me feel better.

"Talking will make you feel a little better. . ." He said to me.

"I. . .know. . ." I said. "I. . .know. . ." I took a deep and watery breath. "I barely talked to her on the way back from the airport, and when we got back, I went straight to bed. . ." I closed my eyes and went to place my face in my hands. "I never really got to talk to her. . ."

He went to touch me, but I only pulled away from him a little. I could hear him sigh, but he was working to get me to understand.

"I know you feel like you need to be the rock for your dad and your brothers," he told me. "But, you're not alone in all of this."

I looked at Steve, and he seemed to be pretty genuine about what he was telling me. I had to believe he was going to be my own support and rock. He was looking back at me, wondering what I was going to say to him.

"I don't know what I could do without you," I quietly told him as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

"Then," he told me once he got over the shock of my reaction. "Let me help you."

I closed my eyes, and the tears were falling down my face again. He wiped my tears from my cheeks again, and we would always be in the world alone together. That was who we were.

"I am," I quietly told him.

Billy came into the house, and he was acting like he was not wiping his eyes from crying. He looked at us and actually rolled his eyes.

"You're lucky Dad's not here to see that," he remarked before walking downstairs. It barely even paused my brother. "Hey, Steve. How was your flight?"

"Long," Steve told him, looking more at me when he had said that., and he wasn't going to pull away from me to better talk to my brother. "It started to really snow when I drove here."

Billy snorted. "Welcome to Iowa."

Steve almost smiled at Billy, but he studied him pretty carefully, probably seeing the grief he was working to hide from us. Billy was quickly gone, probably knowing that Steve was starting to see through the mock-tough image of his. Instead of commenting on Billy, Steve wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him.

I could listen to his heartbeat, and that steady sound was enough to lull me into a deep sleep. That night, I slept in Steve's arms.

Steve was dozing when the front door opened for my father. He quietly closed the door, and he paused when he saw them There was no anger over catching his daughter sleeping in a man's arms. He just shook his head to ignore what he had been thinking about and walked down the hallway to take the little-used guest room reserved for any of my mom's visiting family members.

He looked down at me, and he was wearing a frown. "How are you awake?"

I almost smiled at him. "Heard the door open."

Steve returned his own almost-smile. "Just go back to sleep. . ."

I remember those dreams from the weeks following my mom's death. At first, I would always relive That Day, and it always ended with my mom coming out of her room on the ambulance cot and be taken to the hospital. She was going to be fine.

Waking up sucked because I had to realize that the horrible day was true and actually happened.

After the first few weeks there would just be impressions and feelings. I would relive that early morning in some way or another in my dreams, and it would always feel like a nightmare.

The first day after It had happened started off with the pale light of a December day. My dad was pretty ready to go to work, and he was only drinking the coffee. I pressed my lips together.

"Eat a cinnamon roll," I told him, handing one to him.

"I don't. . ." He was trying to say, but I only shook my head at him.

"You'll feel like crap if you don't eat something," I said, and he took the homemade roll with him as he left eh house.

I had to do the same for my brothers when they woke up, and we were told we had to meet him at the funeral home at around noon. My brothers had barely acknowledged that and went back down the stairs, probably to go back to sleep. I leaned on the counter and placed my face in my hands.

Steve gently rested a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at him. His eyes were full of concern for me. "Same goes for you."

"I'm not hungry," I said. "You know it wouldn't be a problem for me, now."

"Being sick would help no one," Steve told me. "You need to eat something."

I snorted and shook my head, but I did eat a cinnamon roll like he had wanted me to do. My hands had been shaking pretty badly. They were shaking in such a way that had bothered me when I was twelve years old.

I should have been pretty obvious to me in that moment, but I was worried about everything else happening around me.


	73. Chapter 72

A/N: Please read and review!

That Monday after my mom had died was freezing, and though the sun was out, it's light was very pale. The world herself could not bring herself to be bright or cheerful. Steve would watch me carefully as I did the laundry (mine from school and all of the soaked towels and clothing in the bathroom that had been in the bathroom with Mom), trying to see if I was going to be alright. He was concerned for me. The night before I was so full of grief and emotion and willing to show it to him, but that day, I was back to being impassive and emotionally cold.

"What?" I asked him, quirking up an eyebrow at him, not really sure why he needed to be so worried about me.

"I would help you to show your emotions," Steve told me. "Bottling it all up could not be a good thing for you."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "They need me to be the emotional rock and support. You know that. I want to help my brothers and Dad, and I don't think my being emotional would ever help them."

"Neither is bottling it all up," Steve told me.

Before I could really say something, the doorbell rang, and I ran to answer it. the person trying to keep her face covered from the wind walked into the house once I had opened the door, and there was another man with her when I had closed the door. They removed their hoods, and I knew they were T'Challa and his mother.

Steve, as was seeming to be the case by that point, left the room to give us some privacy, but he was going to be nearby in case I needed him. I offered them a place to sit, something to eat, or some coffee, which they had turned down.

"I heard about your great loss," T'Challa told me, and he wore the expression of someone who understood the pain of losing a parent and being helpless to even stop it. "And, I am truly sorry for you."

I nodded in response, and it was to allow his words to sort of sink in. I closed my eyes and went to work to control my breathing. "Thank you."

"We will be at the funeral," his mother told me. "There is no question about it."

I numbly nodded at what he had said to me. "Okay. . ."

The mother allowed her son to finish the conversation, and she stood to the side, studying my mother's decorations and being quiet unless she was needed.

"There is a tradition with the Marking of a Friend of Wakanda," he quietly explained to me, gently reaching for my hand. "It can be passed from parent to children if it was decided the children will hold the same ideals as their parent."

"Is that why there's some room left on my arm?" I asked him, and he nodded.

"We did not believe it would happen this soon," he told me.

"None of us did," I quietly replied. "Do you need me to get my brother's?"

He nodded, and I dashed down the stairs to grab my brothers. It did not take much convincing to grab them. They were probably more curious about meeting royalty, though they would refuse to admit it out loud to anyone else. He talked to them for a moment, and studied them as he spoke to them. They sort of understood why he was there speaking to them, so they realized it would be good if they were honest.

T'Challa had me lay my left arm on the table, and he added the same symbols that had belonged to my mother before he did the same for my brothers. He gravely touched each of our shoulders.

"I am truly sorry for your loss," he quietly told us. "She was a very good woman, and I can see she had raised the three of you well. The world will miss her greatly."

They were gone, and we were quiet as we were trying to figure how to process what was happening. It was further proof that our mother was gone.

Steve walked into the living room when Dad came back from work to go the the meeting at the funeral home. Dad looked between me and Steve, thinking for a moment and fighting with some sort of realization.

"You can come if you want," my dad told him, and he nodded in my direction.

Steve nodded, somehow being able to understand whatever that had meant.

My dad grabbed Billy's left arm to study the marking that wrapped around the wrist. He became quieter as he studied the markings, and he knew what they had meant.

"They were here?" He asked.

Billy nodded. "They feel like they need to go to the service."

Dad nodded, and he grabbed his hat. "Let's go."

Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we started to walk out of the house. For a moment, I rested my hand on his chest and closed my eyes. He was my rock and my support, and I had needed that. When we were in my brother's car, my phone had started to go off, and I answered it. Steve caught who the call came from, and he gave me a close look. I only shrugged back at him.

"Yeah?" I said, quickly looking away from him From the look he gave me, I could tell that he was going to talk to me about that when we would have the chance.

"I heard about your mother," the voice of Grant Ward told me. "From Cable."

"Yeah," I told him. "I'm not surprised."

"I've been told I have problems with this sort of thing. . .from Skye. . ." It was the way he was saying her name that was making me wonder if there was more to it than that. I just thought he like-liked her, but it was still pretty weird-sounding. At least that was what I had thought. "But. . .from what I have heard about her. . .I'm sorry about your loss. . ."

"Thanks," I said. "But, something tells me that's not the only reason why you called me."

"I talked to your grandmother," he told me. "And, she said she'd talk to you about this. . ." He paused. "I would understand why you wouldn't wish to continue with this."

"You know I can't do that," I said. "Not when it's all going to happen. . ."

"Your mother died."

"I know," I said, and my voice shook a little bit. "But, she wouldn't want me ever quit. . ."

"That means you'll see it all to the end," he was saying, and he sounded like he was not that happy about that. There may have been a little bit more to him than we could have ever really realized. Grandma might have needed to know a little bit about that. "Won't you?"

"Whatever ever the end would have to be," I replied. "So, I'm not going to stop. That's who I am."

The call ended, and Steve was still studying me very carefully. He'd been suspecting the same thing for a little while, and he would tell my call had something to do about what I was working on.

"Maybe you should not work on your project," Steve told me as we got out of the car.

"You know I can't do that," I said to him. "Not when I know I can help so many people."

He shook his head. "Stubborn."

"Would you have it any other way?" I asked him.

Steve looked at me for a moment be he closed his eyes and looked away from me. He seemed to be very quiet and very thoughtful.

"No. . .no, I wouldn't," he quietly told me, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him as we walked into the building together.


	74. Chapter 73

A/N: Please read and review!

The funeral home director led us into the large room and offered us where to sit, and my grandpa was waiting for us. He was quiet like Dad, and he gave Steve a second look for a moment, surprised to see him with us. My grandpa shook his head and chose to accept it. There was no other way.

I can never really remember everything he was telling us about the planning for Mom's funeral and visitation. I totally spaced out, only make short and robotic comments when needed, and I wasn't the only quietly one. Billy made even less comments than me.

"I was thinking on having the ambulance crew be the pallbearers," my dad said. He looked at me and my brothers, trying to see if we would have any kind of problems with his idea. "It that's alright."

Me and my brothers looked at each other, and Billy shrugged at me as Bobby started to nod.

"That's a very good idea," I told him, and he gravely nodded, working to keep his expression blank.

Dad turned his attention back to the funeral director. "I was talking to Amanda. . .head of the ambulance crew. . .and she was saying they might have a last call for Jen at the end of the service and a sort of honor guard for her."

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together, and I became very quiet. Everything after that had become pretty vague from that moment on during the meeting. I placed my face in my hands and closed my eyes for a moment. There was a need to sort of need to work to come to terms with how my life was starting to become.

My grandpa pulled me aside as we walked out of the building. "Your grandma wants to speak to you some time this afternoon. Alone."

I think he knew what we were working on. He helped her on her first sort of solo mission for S.H.I.E.L.D., so he sort of understood how she operated. A woman who first started out realized she needed to work in the shadows if she had wanted to get anything done. He understood we had needed to keep everything a secret, so he kept his opinions and that knowledge to himself. That was the sort of thing that would happen when one would marry a spy in the height of her espionage career.

"I'll be by after lunch," I told him, and he nodded before we left.

Steve was looking at me very closely, but he didn't say what he was thinking. He knew I would tell him what we were working on, trusting me as much as possible. For a moment, I didn't think I really deserved his trust in me. Our eyes locked for a moment, and whatever was in his kind eyes made me feel much better.

I walked into grandma's house, and she was busy getting some stuff ready for when her son from Oklahoma and his family's visit over Christmas. She would occasionally talk to Nick Fury as she worked, but she stopped when she walked over to me and gave me a hug.

"You know why I wanted to talk to you," she told me. I looked back at Fury, and she gave me a small hand gesture that it would be alright.

"If you think I didn't know about your activities," Fury remarked, though he did sound to be pretty amused. "Then you still need to work on it. I've been dealing with her from the moment I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. I think I know what to look for."

I rolled my eyes. "I can't stop working on this. Not when I'm needed and especially when everything's going to come to head pretty soon."

"Are you sure you have a clear head?" Fury asked me.

"For obvious reasons," I said, referring to how I would have to control the powers I had thought I had lost. Control my emotions, control my powers. "I had to learn how to control my emotions. I'll be fine."

"Then," my grandma told me, and her eyes were still full of those unshed tears. "Don't get so lost in this you would lose yourself."

"I won't," I promised her.

She seemed to be pretty pleased with that. "Good."

Fury went to shake my hand, getting ready to leave. "I am sorry for your loss."

I shook his hand and numbly looked back at him. "Thank you."

"I could tell she was a good woman," he told me. "I could tell by the way she had raised you."

I was still pretty numb, but I had to accept that. It was his attempt to show me some sympathy and to seem to be pretty more human than the cold and emotionless spy. He was long gone.

That was when I remembered my odd feeling about Grant Ward.

"Have you noticed that Ward seems to be a little. . .off?" I asked her.

She pressed her lips together. "I have. From the beginning."

"Then, why. . .?" I asked her.

"Keep your enemies closer," she told me. "Garrett swooped in to save him and isolated him for years. Cult reprogramming like I have never seen before."

"If he's only loyal to Garrett. . ." I was trying to say.

"He is," she said. "And, I know you have Ward as your go-to guy, but that's why Nathaniel is heavily involved. He knows what he must do."

"We're all your chess pieces?" I asked.

"The ones I know I can trust. . ." She told me. "I label as red. You're the Red Queen. Nathaniel the Red Knight." There had to be others, and of course, she was not going to tell me right then. "Grant is a Black Knight, but there's still hope for him."

"He likes Skye," I remarked. "Maybe that could happen."

"It worked before with Barton and Romanoff," she remarked, and she shook her head. It was her way of changing the subject. "In the months to come, you need to be focused."

"I know."

"Take the time to grieve," she told me. "Don't worry about showing your grief. We understand."

I was on the couch and playing with one of my very tattered bookmarks as I only stared at the pages of my book, not really feeling like I should be able to even read and not being able to concentrate long enough to read one of the my most favorite of books.

Steve went to lightly touch my shoulder, making me suddenly look up at him. He still seemed to be concerned for me and how I was dealing with my grief and everything happening around me, and he gently grabbed my hand. I closed my old and favorite book and get it on the coffee table, and I sat closer to Steve/

"Hey. . .Steve. . ." I told him quietly. I wanted to voice to him what I was feeling for him, but there were two parts that were fighting each other. The shy part of me had always won out from when I was pretty young and for most of my life, but there was a part of me that was more like my mother and her family that was starting to fight that older part of me. It was always fighting that shy part from the moment Steve showed he had valued my opinions. It had been winning more and more by that point.

"Are you okay?" He quietly asked me. "You've been pretty quiet lately."

"Just been thinking a lot," I told him. "Trying to figure some things out."

"Too serious," he told me. "There were some things that had happened today that would have made you laugh, but you didn't."

"I know. . ." I told him, and I started to play with my long hair. I could see why he would be so worried about that. I was too young to be serious and jaded about the world. "It might take me awhile."

Steve went to hold me closer to him. "You're stronger than you realize."

I looked up at him, and I actually gave him a small smile which actually relieved him. That was enough to give me the strength I needed to take that final step.

"I love you," I actually blurted out to him.

"I know. . ." he quietly told me, and he lightly kissed my forehead. "I love you, too."


	75. Chapter 74

A/N: Please read and review!

It was Christmas Eve. . .the first Christmas Eve without my mom, and that was enough to make all of us grim and quiet. Time was still moving on like the world was never really different. That was both a comfort and a pain, but I'm sure everyone who lost a very close family member would say that when trying to deal with their own grief. The Oklahoma family arrived the night before, and my brothers were at grandma's house for most of the afternoon to play with the cousins.

I stayed home in case there were any well wishers who would stop by, and always, Steve was with me, trying to show me was my rock and my support. He managed to make everything seem bearable, and I realized I really needed him.

The night before, we finally admitted to each other our love, and though we knew about it before, things always change when you say something like that out loud. It really seemed and felt real.

We would share glances, and he would lightly touch me, probably trying to see if it all was true and real. That, day, the few times I was able to smile was from whatever he would say to me. He was able to make that day seem a little brighter than it would have been, otherwise.

Temperance Brennan was there with her father and holding her daughter as they were standing in front of my door, and I quickly let them into the warm house.

"I think there's some coffee left over from my brother's breakfast this morning," I told them. "Would you like some?"

"We're fine," Brennan told me. "I heard the news yesterday, and I was able to connect her to you this morning." She paused when her daughter reached out to pull on her hair, and she tried not to smile. Mother and daughter were very close, that being very clear. It was enough for her to figure out what she was going to say to me. "I know you're feeling a lot of pain over losing the woman you looked up to. . ." She really did look like she understood me over losing a mother.

Her father could tell she was having issues speaking more from that point on, still dealing with whatever had happened to her own mother, so that may have been the main reason why he was with her, to help her with speaking about certain things.

"We're sorry for your loss," her father quietly said for her, and she pressed her lips together to show she had agreed with him.

Before she left, she paused for a moment and looked back at me.

"Booth isn't really in prison," I explained to her, remembering what I had been told by Nate. "His scores caught the attention of some very powerful people, and they want to use him. They needed him to be framed to break his will."

"They?" Brennan asked.

"Very bad people," I quickly told her. "Don't worry. . .they won't kill him. He's too valuable for them."

She nodded as she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to process what was told to her. "I know you have a habit of getting people out of a situation. . ."

"Yeah. . ." I told her. "It's connected to what I'm working on, so. . ."

She almost smiled and clasped my hand in gratitude before she was gone. It was not the first time I hoped my big and gigantic gamble was ever going to work. A lot was riding on its success, and it could be very dangerous if it had all failed. Too much power could be given to them, or they would be able to figure out what I was going to do before I could even act. That was not going to end well.

I looked back at Steve, and he must have been watching us for that moment, probably pretty interested in what was going on and what we were speaking about.

"What?" I asked him, not really sure about his reaction.

"Most people would say you helping people would serve your own ends," he remarked.

I almost smile back at Steve. There was something behind the tone of his voice that I could tell he could see through it.

"And," I told him. "You're not like most people."

"No," Steve told me. "I know you better than most people."

He walked towards me, and he brushed my hair out of my face. We shared that one look that was so full of our feelings for each other, and that was enough to make me feel much better.

Grandma did not mind having Steve there for the small family dinner before the Christmas Eve service. Like my grandma all of my mom's side of the family, Steve's accepted as a part of the family, no questions asked.

My little cousin, Jaden, was talking at him, and instead of ignoring her or barely speaking to her, he listened to her and spoke to her, actually holding a normal conversation with her which she seemed to be pretty pleased with. Even Alec thought he was pretty great. When we showed up before dinner, Alec kept showing off some of his toys and allowed him to hold them.

At first, Adam, the Oklahoma uncle's oldest kid, was being shy around him, barely knowing him so barely comfortable with him. He only stayed by my side, and like the few meetings before, we were messing around. After a while, Adam grabbed my hand, laughing as he pulled me towards a corner in the living room.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, trying to act like I was serious.

"You need to sit in the corner," he told me. "You're in trouble."

He had me sit in the corner, and the moment he had looked away from me, I crept up at him and hugged him from behind. He ran away from me, laughing loudly, and I started to chase him.

Steve watched how we played together, and he wore a small smile amused at us. I looked back at him, and I was able to easily return the smile. That smile did not practically crack my face. It was more natural, much like the ones before my mother had died. That was enough to relieve Steve. seeing me be more lighthearted than ever before since the death of my mother.

Nothing really seemed as dark or grim. It was the beginning of going back to my lighthearted and bright attitude from before.


	76. Chapter 75

A/N: Please read and review!

After the family dinner at Grandma's house, we went back to the house to get ready for the church service. Of course, Billy thought that meant he could watch T.V. after taking a long shower. I'm not sure how that was ever possible, but he's worse that a female when it comes to getting ready for anything. Seriously. . .what was he doing?

Anyway, Dad came into the living room, working on his tie and yelling down the stairs at Billy to hurry up and get ready. Billy yelled back some unintelligible response about how how well he knew that he needed to go to church. That still didn't mean he was going to be fast about getting ready. Bobby was sitting at the kitchen table, and he was taping one of his tennis shoes to wear with his black dress pants and white button-down shirt and red tie.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He cut the tape. "Fixing my shoes."

I opened my mouth before closing it again, just staring at my brother. "You're not wearing them."

"Yeah," Bobby replied. "Watch me."

"They're held together with tape!" I replied. "You're not wearing them to the church."

Dad was listening to us, and he had to shake his head at how ridiculous the two of us were being. "Bob, get better shoes. I know you have some."

"They're too small!" Bobby said.

"And, you're telling me this now?" Dad asked.

"I'll go and get better shoes Wednesday," Bobby said, brushing it all aside. "But, I need to wear these."

Dad let out a long-suffering sigh and could only shake his head. "You can wear your cowboy boots."

He didn't need to tell him twice, and he went to grab his cowboy boots, pleased he was to be able to have his own way in the situation. I stared at him, and he turned around and made a face at me.

Steve quietly watched that, wearing a mysterious expression on his face. I couldn't tell if he was worried or pleased, but I decided not to worry about it at the moment.

As always, the Christmas Eve candlelight service was full of different family members from all across the country, and there were many younger kids in the their best and itching to run around with the others but were being held back by the wise parents or knowing older siblings. It was like nothing had ever really happened.

There was a small part of me that felt a lot of relief over that seemingly unchanged life. Nothing would have made the world stop. Sometimes that was enough.

Steve was looking at me, trying to read my expression, but I only gave him a small smile before making a face at him.

"I'm fine," I told him, hanging my jacket on one of the racks. "No need to worry about me."

"I'm. . .not. . ." Steve said to me, and I could see through it. I was not going to say anything more about it.

He walked with me, and like with my family, everyone in the congregation accepted his presence. No one really mentioned the fact he was Captain America. He was just some guy going to the candlelight service with his girlfriend and her family. Nothing more.

There was a kid I used to teach swimming lessons handing out the candles with his brother and little sister. When I grabbed mine, I was quietly speaking to him and eventually making him laugh before I walked with the rest of my family. Steve seemed to have been mildly amused by that.

"What?" I asked him, looking up at him as he started to wear a small smile.

"I don't know how you do that," he told me. "They all seem to flock around you."

"No idea what you're talking about," I replied. "I taught his swimming lessons."

He shook his head, and he did not sound too convinced by what I had told him. It was going to be one of the many things he would say was "good" about me. No matter what I would tell him to the contrary.

The service went like it normally would have gone. Halfway through the service and during the sermon, Steve rested his arm on the back of the pew behind me as we listened to the sermon. I looked sideways up at him before quickly looking back at the pastor.

Alec decided he needed to run around at the front of the church where the candles were standing and lit, and he started to slowly walk down the aisle and looked back at my uncle, wearing a small grin like he was daring his father to do something. My uncle was out of the pew, starting to chace Alec down the aisle when the little boy had decided to run as fast as he could away from my uncle. My uncle grabbed Alec and carried him back to the pew, not mad just mildly amused, and my cousin looked pleased with himself over what had happened.

I laughed a little at what had happened, and many people in the congregation were pretty amused over that little interaction.

The candles were lit, and right when Alex was starting to fuss over having to be in one place for so long, he saw my lit candle, and his eyes became a little wider. He sat still for so long, and he was able to only focus his attention on the flame.

Yeah. . .he's definitely a part of the family.

We sang "Silent Night" when all of the candles were lit, and Steve stopped singing when he was able to hear me. When I looked up at him, I could see had closed his eyes to better listen to me sing, so I quickly looked back down at the music other I wouldn't have been able to continue to sing. I had this strong welling of emotion, and it had to do with the look on his face as he listened to me sing, like he had felt he could always listen to me and loved my voice.

When the song had ended, I braved to look up at him, and we shared that one look when we shared with each other how we had felt about each other. I realized that nothing was ever going to be that bad if I had him by my side, and we would be able to support each other through the worst of it.

"I can see why people believe you're wasting your future," he said when the service had ended, and everyone was slowly starting to leave the church or catching up with many people they had not seen in a while.

"I'm not," I told him. "I've been talking Billy out of trouble for most of my life."

"I know," he said. "I can see that, but there are people who don't know you that well who feel that way." He paused for a moment. "I think you'll change the world."


	77. Chapter 76

A/N: Please read and review!

Maranda, a girl from my class, walked down the side aisle and into my pew. She could hypnotize anyone just by speaking or singing to them, and she had this sort of sonic cry. It was the main reason why she would wear a special kind of necklace to temper her powers and be able to live as normal a life as possible. Steve may have had an understanding on why she was there, and he left us to the side, giving her a chance to speak to me.

She gave me a hug as she started to hug me, and her voice started to shake with some unshed tears for my own sake.

"Becca, I'm so sorry for you," she said to me when she pulled away from me. "When I heard about what had happened, I had been praying for you all day."

I swallowed for a moment and cleared my throat. "Thank you."

"Just so you know," she told me. "If you need anything. . .everything at all. . .I'll be there for you, and I'm just across the street."

I nodded, and she walked away to leave with her own family. For a few moments, I worked to keep my emotions under control and to keep myself from breaking down right there, which was not something I would have been able to do for a long period of time. It was enough for me when Steve reached out for me and clasped one of my hands.

"You okay?" He quietly asked me as we started to walk out of the fellowship hall.

"I'm fine," I answered. "It's hard to really forget about. . ."

"I understand," he replied. "It's better to know you're not alone."

"Yeah," I said. "It is."

It was lightly snowing outside, lightly dusting the ground and the trees, and it wasn't freezing like the few days before. The feeling of Christmas was definitely in the air. I did feel a little light at that, as always, and I couldn't help but think about my mother. There was something about it that made me want to believe Mom was in a good place, really was an angel. I had to feel even better about that.

We did what we would always do for Christmas Eve. We ate homemade ice cream and the Norwegian cookies my great-grandma made sure we knew how to make and to love. Things were tempered a little from our grief, but it made us all a little closer together. We passed out the presents, and we were able to open them. It was more entertaining to watch the younger kids opening their presents or handing them all out, and they were all pretty excited over what they had gotten, trying to get them out of their boxes and practically screaming over everything.

"This is a joyful noise," Grandpa said.

My dad studied him for a moment. "You're not wearing your hearing aids."

"Exactly."

Steve was given some things that great-grandpa made sure to keep in one of his safety deposit boxes. Apparently, the two of them believed he would come back at some point. They wrote some letters to him, telling him everything that had happened over the years.

He kept his expressions blank as he looked through everything, but when he looked up at me. I could tell of it really bothered him. I reached out to him and lightly squeezed his hand, trying to be the one to make him feel much better. He visibly relaxed when he had felt my hand hold his.

We both were realizing that things could still look so much better when we were together.

Christmas was never going to be the same again, and that day, it was like we were only going through the motions of what Christmas should be like. We opened the presents Mom had helped Dad pick out for us. He almost cried when he had opened the gift she had given to him, and for almost an hour, he was quiet and only looked out of the window, keeping to himself.

I gave Steve a small, wrapped box, and he gave me a questioning look when he took it.

"Of course I would get you something," I told him, smiling a little for him.

"You didn't have to," he told me.

"Of course I do."

Steve shook his head a little at what I told him, and he seemed to be pretty amused at how I had said it. He opened the small box to pull out a small medallion-thing that had a saint on it.

"I had to ask Mom about it," I told him. "Because I have no idea about saints."

"That's unfortunate," he told me, joking a little. "Saint Michael."

"Yeah. . ." I said. "She highly recommended that one."

"Do you even know what he's a patron saint of?" Steve asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, of course I do. Soldiers and emergency workers."

He looked back at me, and he was more amused than anything. Steve was a little touched over the kind of work I had put into his gift. "Thanks."

Steve placed a small box in my hands, and I looked at it before looking up at him. He looked back at me, becoming more amused at how I was reacting. I rolled my eyes at him before I opened the small box. It held a simple golden cross necklace, and there were small blue stones that decorated it.

"Thank you, Steve," I said to him, and whatever I was going to say to him was gone.

"My dad gave that to my mom," he admitted to me.

I stiffened a little at what he had told me, and I went to give him back the box. "I can't take this. . ."

He gently pushed my hand back towards me. "She would not have minded you having it." I chose to accept the necklace, and he was studying me pretty closely. "You know. . .she would have liked you."

I was glad Steve was there for Christmas when I called him, and being with him allowed me to grieve in my own way. He helped me a lot, and I really could understand the meaning behind the words we had shared. Love could pull you out of the darkness, and ti could bring out the best in anyone.


	78. Chapter 77

A/N: Please read and review!

It was December 26, and Dad would go to work at the bank, trying to finish as much work as possible before the next couple of days with the visitation and the funeral and all of the family being there for Mom. He made sure that me and my brothers would have at least one of us at the house for calls from Mom's family or any visit to the house by any of the local well wishers.

There was a light dusting of snow over everything, and the sunlight was pale, trying to cut through the cold, wintery air. Even if you didn't go outside, you could tell it was pretty cold, and my dad didn't really like to have the house too warm if he had his way, though we didn't really need that as a family. Billy and Bobby spent most of their day downstairs, sleeping or playing video games.

Steve spent most of the morning on the phone with Natasha, and they were talking about something. He made sure to keep his voice low as he spoke to her, so I wasn't able to hear exactly what he was talking to her about. Every once in awhile, he would always look at me before quickly looking away from me, knowing I would probably figure out what they were talking about just by looking at him.

There was a knock on the door, and I answered it to see Rachel, Nate, and their father. She went to hug me when she came into the house. Dad was there for lunch when they had arrived. Scott knew his schedule pretty well.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she told me. "When I found out, I cried for most of the day for you."

"Thanks," I said, and she hugged me again.

"You need anything. . ." She said.

When her mother had died, I was somehow able to be the support she had needed, and for some reason, she felt like she needed to be my support.

"You'll be there for me," I said, but I said it in a way that made it sound like I didn't really care or believe her.

She frowned at me for a moment, but she knew it would be useless to speak to me when I acted like that. Rachel went to go speak to Billy, for whatever reason, she liked to talk to my brother. I would never understand that. They would always end up arguing with each other, and there were times when we would think they would try to kill each other, they got that bad. Her dad was pretty quiet, but I could tell he had some opinions about me, that weren't that nice, especially blaming me for Jean's death. He knew enough that it wasn't the right moment to air those kinds of opinions.

"This was the one time I could get free," Nate told me. "When no one would think anything of it. I'm so sorry. . ." He was quiet. "Your mother was a good woman."

"Thanks," I said. "It feels like it'll never end."

"It does at first," he said, completely understanding me.

"How are you holding up?" I asked him, studying him very closely. He was never really able to fully grieve for his mother's death.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He asked me, and I quirked up an eyebrow at him, making him realize he should answer my question if he knew what's good for him. "I do have some time for myself to think."

"That's good. Very good."

"Are you still going to be involved with. . .?" He looked around, trying to find the words when he realized it's not just us. "Chess?"

"Are you?" I shot back.

He was quiet for a moment, understanding that the two of us were not going to stop what we had started even for the loss of a mother. It was not how we were raised.

"Good point," he told me as that realization began to hit him. "Very good point. I don't know how you would do that and still be able to work."

I shrugged. "Doesn't create a problem for me."

"You know. . ." He said, dropping his voice to change the subject back to the matter at hand. "If you need anything. . ."

Dad and Scott were quietly talking to each other. They could understand what they were going through. Both had lost the love of their lives not too long apart.

"Thanks. . ." I said.

Steve walked into the living room, and he wore a look or recognition when he had a good look at Nate. Nate seemed to have been a little resigned to what was happening between me and Steve. Steve was able to recognize Nate may have been Cable which would help me in the future when everything would start to happen.

Lauren and Janet walked into the house, and they were busy holding me and talking at me. They were crying, too, not just saying that they did. The Sisterhood had come together during that dark moment, and I'm pretty sure they were crying more than I was. Somehow, I was the one who was comforting them instead of the other way around.

Steve was off to the side watching it all happen as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed before he left us alone.

"We'll be there," Lauren told me, and Janet nodded at me to show her agreement. "The visitation. The funeral. Everything. Whether you like it or not."

"Maybe after, too," Janet agreed with her. "'Cause we want to mooch off some free food."

I smiled before I was able to cackle at the two of them. That was what I had needed, and they were able to figure that out. There was no need to tell me they would be there because they already were. They knew that several people had been telling me that since it had all happened.

Lauren elbowed Janet in the side. "Oh wait. . .I meant. . .we're going to be by your side no matter what. Yeah. . .that's it."

"Thought you'd be a little bit more cultured coming back from Europe," I remarked to Janet, quirking up an eyebrow at her.

"I was in England. Not France," Janet quickly replied. "Thought you'd know the difference."

"Of course I know the difference," I sniffed. "What do you take me for?"

We started to cackle with each other, just like the way we did when we were much younger, and that was enough for the three of us.

"You know. . ." Steve said to me when my friends had left. "Everytime I think I know you, you surprise me."

I smiled at him, and I gave him a quirked up eyebrow with an amused expression. "Is that a bad thing?"

He looked serious before he lightly kissed me. "Never."

I closed my eyes for a moment, reveling in one of those moments where our feelings for each other really started to shine through. Steve lightly hugged me, and I opened my eyes.

"Are you sure I'm the only one who's full of surprises?" I almost playfully asked him, and he shook his head in amusement.

"You just love ruining the moment, don't you?" He asked.

"It's one of my skills," I told him. "You should know that. . ."

He looked at me for a moment, becoming even more relieved the longer he had looked at me. "You seem much better."

"It's been taking me awhile. . .and will take me awhile. . ." I told him, not feeling as bad as before. "But. . .with a lot of help. . ." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "I will feel even better."


	79. Chapter 78

A/N: Please read and review!

The day of the visitation started off pretty normally. All of Mom's siblings, their families, and her parents were there. and for once they were a grave lot. It was a serious moment, completely different from any of our other gatherings with them.

Tabby walked towards me when she came into the house, and she hugged me. Because we were closer to each other age wise, she saw my mom as more of a second mother than an older sister. She had always been very close to my mom.

"Why did we have to see each other again like this?" She quietly told me.

"Yeah," I told. "It does suck, doesn't it?"

When she pulled away from me, she noticed the cross necklace I had been wearing, and she studied it for a moment.

"That's pretty," she told me.

"Steve gave it to me," I told her. "For Christmas."

Her eyes began to twinkle at that. "Oh, really?" She quickly looked back at Steve, but she still didn't seem as bad as before. It was all a bit tempered. "You two. . .?" I just stared at her for a moment, wearing a blank expression on my face. "Oh come on. . .you and I both know. . ."

"Your question was pretty vague," I told her. "You could have literally have meant anything."

"Really?" Tabby asked me. "Really?" She rolled her eyes at me. "What's going on between the two of you?"

"What do you think?" I asked her. "He came when I called him, and. . ."

"Aw. . ." She told me, and Steve suddenly turned his head to look at us, probably wondering what we were talking about.

I elbowed her in the side. "Not so loud. . ."

"Some things never change," she told me, rolling her eyes again. "Maybe you should've lived closer to the old family home. You're too. . ." She thought for a moment. "German."

"Don't you mean repressed?" I asked her.

"They're pretty interchangeable."

I quirked up an eyebrow at her, almost amused at her. "No, they're not."

"Well. . ." She quickly replied. "Right now they are."

Steve watched us for a moment before he walked towards us. He had to keep himself from wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Steve," Tabby told him, actually sounding pretty serious. "I know voodoo. . ." She wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Don't you dare disappoint her."

He looked between the two of us, and I gave him a small shrug.

"I wouldn't," he said, but he was looking directly into my eyes when he had said it. "Never."

Tabby gave me a sideways look, but she seemed to be a little pleased about it. "Good. I don't have a problem with it."

She him a small smile before she walked away, and Steve gave a small chuckle as he shook his head.

"Would she really do that?" He asked.

"Would you be surprised if I told you it's something she had learned from my mom?" I replied, not really grimacing at what I was saying to Steve. "Or, the fact that she would make an actual voodoo doll?"

He shook his head. "I'm not surprised. . ." He studied me pretty closely for a moment. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "I'm fine."

Steve reached out to me, and he gently clasped my hand. "I'll be here if you need me."

Some of Billy's friends came by the house before the visitation. You look at some of them, you'd think they would break the law just for fun. Daken was actually wearing a suit, and he didn't look dangerous or angry when he was talking with my dad. There was a second person, more Bobby's friend than Billy's, and Daken made sure he stayed close to him for whatever reason. The second man had a lot of scars that not only covered most of his face but most of his body, from what I could tell and guess, and his eyes had a sort of maddened light to them of a man whose existence was a constant pain for him.

When he was able to walk towards me, I was able to see how mad he really seemed to be. The reality he was familiar with wasn't really a part of the real world. I shuddered a little to myself when I made that realization. It was very unsettling.

"I'm Wade," he told me. "Friends with your brother."

"I figured," I told him, feeling pretty wary of him, but there was no need, I had to remind myself. Bobby must have seen something redeemable within him if he was willinging to spend time with him and consider him to be a friend.

"Nothing ever surprises you," Wade remarked. It wasn't really an insult. Just a comment with a little too much of knowing within it.

"Good point," I told him. "But, that's not all you wanted to say to me."

He became very thoughtful for a moment, and he tipped his head to the side. His eyes flashed as he started to look around us, seeing what wasn't really there. That was very unsettling as well. I kept thinking he was going to snap and try to kill us.

"You know what I had learned?" He asked me, and oddly enough, he seemed pretty respectful of me for any reason known only to him. "You're the glue, and when things fall apart, you'll be able to keep everything together. You'll be able to bring different people and groups together to do anything."

"And," I replied, not really wanting to believe him. Everyone would say something like that. I was his friend's older sister, so it would've been a good idea for them to say something nice about me. "I find that hard to believe."

"Don't blame you," he said. "It's who you are, but I can tell it was the way your mother raised you that would've been the reason why you're the glue. You'll believe me soon enough. When it all starts to happen. Or. . .at least that's what the red words told me."

"That makes no sense at all," I told him, still finding it pretty hard to believe or I was refusing to even bother to believe him.

"Yeah. . .well. . ." Wad said. "The red words have never lied before."

That was when Daken grabbed Wade and pulled him away from me.

"Sorry about that," Bobby said. "He doesn't really do that all of the time. He knows nobody needs to know about his revelations."

"Can he see the future?" I asked.

Bobby snorted. "No. He has brain tumors and regenerative healing factor. The constant healing and growing and healing tumors made him go crazy. Take it all with a grain of salt."


	80. Chapter 79

A/N: Please read and review!

We walked into the funeral home, and the room was holding a lot of flowers around my mom's casket. The flowers were from family within the community or people who knew us really well, and the flowers were very beautiful. Mom would've loved them. I braved myself to walk towards Mom's casket, and I looked down at her still face. She looked so calm and peaceful, and I almost choked up a little. Her normally bright and playful eyes and smile were gone, and it made me realize that it all was very real and very final. I rested a hand on my mom's folded hands and closed my eyes for a moment.

"Good bye, Mom," I said, voice very quiet and very shaky. "I love you. . ."

My little brother wrapped an arm around my shoulders as Billy wrapped an arm around his. We quietly looked down at our mother, being each other's support as we quietly said goodbye to our mother. She was the reason why we weren't as jaded as most of the Mutants of our generation. It was her easygoing and personality, and she would do anything to help as many people as she could, making sure we did the same as well.

The world lost a very good woman. There were few people in this world who would ever be like her or see the world the same way that she did.

We pulled apart, and I had to really look at the pictures of my mom. I needed to really work to remember her lively and exuberant self, not as the woman in the casket who was wearing no smile or playful expression on her face. I didn't want that as my final memory of her.

I went to sit down, and I place my head in my hands to come to terms with everything and to steel myself for the next few hours. It was going to rough for all of us. Steve was by my side, and he rested a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him.

"I told you," he said to me. "You don't need to be alone in this."

It was a steady stream of coworkers, classmates, and friends walking through the line to speak to or to hug us. There was the family members of the nursing home residents, and they always had the same thing to say about my mom: She was always so kind to their family at the nursing home, always so careful, and always so caring. They were sorry for our loss. The world had lost a great woman.

My grandparents and her siblings had to listen to that. They were both very proud of her and in pain with each person talking to them, but they were able to handle it all with grace and in stride.

T'Challa of Wakanda was there to pay respect to one of the few Friends of Wakanda, and the woman who was referred to as the Defender of the People. He spoke to her family, and he was probably able to see where my mom had got that attitude in life from.

"She's a good woman," I heard him say to my dad. "And, I can tell the two of you had raised your children well. She would be missed."

Scott Summers was there, and he was quietly speaking to my dad. They both lost the women they had loved, and they could understand each other through their grief. Both men were close to crying right then and there but kept themselves from breaking down. I quickly look away from them to play with my old class ring.

It was towards the end of the time of the visitation when the rest of the Avengers had arrived. I quietly gave Steve a look, having a feeling he was somehow behind their appearance. He only gave me a small shrug like that was not an issue.

Tony walked through everything, pausing by Mom's casket for a short moment before shaking his head as he continued to walk.

"I have no idea how you're this strong," he remarked to me.

"Yeah. . .well. . ." I said, and there was nothing I could really say to that.

"Well. . ." He was trying to say to me. "I'm sorry."

Pepper had found it easier to speak to me and the rest of the family, probably being used to it all than Tony, and she knew exactly what to say to us. Bruce was still pretty uncomfortable when he was out in public, but he didn't look like he was going to run the moment he would be startled. He could fool people into believing he was a normal member of society. Bruce quietly spoke with each of us, and when he shook my hand, gently clasping it.

"As a physicist," he told me like he was able to explain a difficult concept for me verys simply. "I know that matter could never be erased or destroyed." He paused for a moment to allow his words to sink in for me. "As long as you are still here, still being touched by your mother's life and influence, she will never truly go away."

I looked back at him for a moment before I hugged him. No one ever really tried to say that to me since that dark Sunday. It's always good to be friends with a physicist. You'd never realize it, but they knew exactly what to say to a person. He pulled back a little from being surprised at my sudden reaction.

"Thanks," I told him. "I'm not going to forget."

Natasha quietly looked around. "She has touched a lot of lives."

"Yeah. . .that was who she was. . ."

"You know. . ." She told me. "She was very proud of you. . .no matter what the three of you would do. Anyone can tell that by the way she'd talk or write about you. . ."

"Thanks," I said, but I narrowed my eyes at her. "I don't know how you would know that."

"I'm well connected," she told me. "but, it was pretty obvious."

Clint was silent. He knew my mom from his visits with my uncle when they were much younger. I could tell he respected her. Even though he was only friend of a younger brother of my dad, she treated him like he was family, no questions asked. It shook him a little, knowing that so few good people were in the world just as there was no shortage of horrible people in the world.

Thor, who recently had lost his own mother, spoke to me in such a way to help me see that it might not always be that bad. He was hopeful, and he talked about it in a way to make me not feel afraid of that hope. Somehow, that was how I realized he was able to understand me. It was the beginning of a strange kind of friendship that was full of respect.

Steve walked over to me, and I crossed my arms as I looked back at him.

"What's that about?" I asked him.

"You're a valued member of them," he quietly told me. "They wanted to support you. . ."


	81. Chapter 80

A/N: Please read and review!

It was like Mother Nature knew we were going to have her funeral on that day. The pale sunlight was poking through the winter clouds, and it actually felt pretty nice and warmer, even though it was the start of an Iowa winter. It was the beginning of a dreary day, but it didn't have to feel have to feel dreary.

Bobby was actually wearing a suit and tie, and he was in front of a mirror to tie bright blue tie. He wore a frown of concentrate, and it was pretty clear he wasn't used to wearing ties. His hair still looked like he just rolled out of bed, knowing him that may very well have been the case.

Billy came up the stairs, carrying a suit jacket. "One of the buttons fell off."

"Ooh," I said. "What did you do?"

"It was hanging up here," Billy told me as he put on the jacket. "I didn't do any of this."

I pulled up the legs of my new dress pants to walk easier and not trip on my face. They were a little too long for me. Billy snickered.

"What?" I snapped at him as I poured myself a cup of coffee.

"Is that a good idea?" He asked me. "You might be tripping all day."

"I'll be fine," I replied. "I'm not going to be walking everywhere, so I won't trip on my face."

"Right," Bobby was saying. "You'll be saying that right up until you fall in front of everybody."

I rolled my eyes. We would always pick on each other, but there was no animosity between the three of us. We were more enjoying the banter and parrying with each other than disliking each other. Sometimes I believed it was new and different, but it was always like that. We became closer during those dark days. It wasn't obvious right away, not even to us, but it was definitely for us to become the wall of support for each other.

If you can't ever trust your family, who could you trust?

There was a little ceremony for the family before the much bigger one, and I could feel how somber it was. There were people actively trying to keep themselves from breaking down and crying right then and there.

When I walked out of the chapel, Steve walked over to me. He didn't wrap an arm around my shoulders because he knew I would've pulled away from him from that sudden contact, but he did gently squeeze my hand.

"I'm sitting with the others," he told me.

"Why?" I asked him, not happy about it. I wanted him by my side during the service.

"I'm not a part of your family," he said, but the way he said it made me hear that it could happen in the future. "But, I'm still there."

We looked at each other for that moment. There was the way he had said it that was hanging in the air. I looked down and away from him.

"I understand," I replied. "But, that doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

I wanted him by my side. He was my rock and support, and I was going to need him.

"I'll still be there," he said again. "Don't worry."

"I know. . ." I said, and I went to squeeze his hand.

Natasha and Thor had been watching our little interaction, but they didn't comment on what they had seen. I made a point of not acting like I noticed them watching the two of us. If they wanted to know anything, they could ask the right questions, and I would probably admit to the whole truth.

There was a steady flow of people walking into the fellowship hall for Mom's funeral. She both directly and indirectly touched so many lives. No one really realized it before that weekend, but my mom was the rock of the whole community. Losing her would greatly affect the whole community for years and years into the future.

I choked up a little at that thought.

Mom's service was very beautiful, and I couldn't remember the full details of that service. But, I do know that she would've loved it. After what had happened at the service, I would constantly catch myself reminding myself I needed to tell my mom about it, knowing she would have loved to hear about it or even to see it.

The whole fire department and ambulance crew were wearing their jackets, out of respect for one of their own that had fallen, and they were sitting together. She was one of their own for years and years, and no matter what was going on in her life or how tired she seemed to be, she would still drop everything, within reason, to help them when they had needed her. Their pagers were clipped to their pants for the last call for my mom from dispatch when the service had ended.

The pastor was the man who had married my parents and baptized me and my brothers. He knew exactly what to say about my mom during the short sermon, and he read the story of the Good Samaritan, something that had described my mom perfectly. When he was done speaking, he had opened it up to have anyone to speak about my mom and everything that she had done.

T'Challa was the first, though he didn't speak about being a king, but he spoke as a Wakandan reminiscing about a woman who protected all of the people in Wakanda who were under her care, even if it had meant risking her life. She demanded the old king to do what he could to protect all his people, and she took the young boy out of the country when the old king was slain. That young boy was T'Challa, and she indirectly helped bring the way Wakanda to be liberated from the horrible person who killed the old king and took the throne.

"There were few people who would do something like that," T'challa finished it. "It was something she would do, and she made sure her children had that same view."

Next was a woman how first ran with my om on the ambulance crew and then worked with her in the nursing home.

"I always thought she had found her true calling," she explained. "But, she was always so caring and attentive of anyone she had helped." She went to clear her throat. "You could tell she loved her three kids just by the way she spoke about them."

Tabby went to speak about her older sister. She always looked up to her, and she always worked to be like her older sister. It was no mystery why she would act the way she did. She was one of the few people who were truly good in character and in practice. It was no surprise she had touched so many lives, and it was something she would do and never mention or brag about.

It was always the same thing. People had realized Mom was a good person, and not only did the community lose something important but the whole world did.


	82. Chapter 81

A/N: Please read and review!

The last call for my mom from dispatch was enough to make me break down and cry in public. Nothing could keep me from breaking down, not even the need to stay stoic and strong. I had to allow myself to cry right then. My dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a handkerchief. I had to wrap an arm around Bobby's shoulders after a while.

The last hymn came, and the whole family and the fire and ambulance crew started to leave the fellowship hall, following Mom's caskett. They created an honor guard for my mom, and it wasn't just the ambulance crew from her home town. There were people in the crews in different local towns, and they were lucky enough to work with her during the time she was on the ambulance crew. The people of the crew who had worked with my mom on every run were her pallbearers.

The hearse to the cemetery and the different ambulances followed behind it. Everybody else walked out of the church to watch us go the cemetery.

Mom was buried that day, and everything seemed very final and very true. I looked up at the sky and closed my eyes for a moment. Mom was always going to be there with me, no matter what could happen. The only way I could think better and keep strong was to believe she would be some kind of guardian angel. That made me feel a little bit better.

We walked back into the church, and the short little meal following the service was full of family and friends and members of the community speaking with each other and sharing condolences and remembrances about her. That wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be.

I looked up to see Steve watching me, and he gave me a small nod, making me return a faint half-smile. He walked over to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"You look much better," he quietly told me.

"Somehow. . .I feel better," I said. "Maybe. . .because I realize she's at peace right now, and she's always with me. No matter what."

He gave me a half hug, pleased at how strong I seemed to be. Natasha was the only one who seemed to notice our interaction. She quirked up an eyebrow, but she didn't say anything as yet.

"And, you're actually eating," he commented. "Good."

"I'm starving," I told him. "Of course I'm eating."

"That's good," Steve told me. "You lost your appetite. . ."

"Yeah. . .well. . .not anymore. . ." I replied. "I'm working on feeling better."

He gave me another half-hug, and he kissed my cheek.

A couple days later, I went back to D.C. with Lauren. She was surprised I was going back to school and not taking a break after that sort of trauma. If it was her, she would've taken the break if she had her way.

I shook my head when she said it. "I don't think I'd be able to handle if if I take a break. It wouldn't help anyone if I took that break." I paused to look out of the window to watch the countryside quickly pass by the car. "Anyway, she was proud of what I was doing. I'm not going to throw it all away."

"Good point," Lauren said.

It didn't take long for me to go back into the routine of my classes, my internship, and my sometimes job at the Triskelion. It helped me to realize that keeping constantly busy was going to keep me from dwelling too long on next being able to help my mom on that Sunday morning before Christmas, though I wasn't ever going to admit to that out loud.

I got my LSAT scores back, and I had to focus on what law school I should go to in the next year. Something made me realize a law school in New York City would be pretty important. There was a part of me that knew what there was a great change that would happen towards the end of my spring semester. Things were going into that direction, that much I could tell. I knew I needed to be in New York City in the time to come when the things all start to seemingly fall apart.

The world was never going to be the same again, and I had to patiently wait for it all to happen first.

I was busy filing things for Pierce, and I could hear him speaking with a specialist. Garrett, of course. Pierce made sure to make sure no one knew about what they were talking about. No one thought that was suspicious, the nature of their work and all that colored their perceptions. It made no one wonder what they were really talking about, and I don't think anyone even care, either.

When nobody wasn't even looking at me, I started to peek through the files I started to file and sort. Project Deathstroke was created and ended not too long following John Garrett's life-changing mission. Pierce had it "shut down," and again. no one questioned what was happening. Everything Stryker was involved with was heavily watched and shut down by Garrett. I kept my composure as I worked to file all of it, trying to make myself seem less suspicious.

Garrett walked out of the office seemingly more pleased then when he had walked in. He didn't even register my presence.

It's why my grandma had me doing all of this and not herself. People would've expected it from her, but not from someone like me. I'm not the type of person who would be duplicitous or devious. It wasn't that hard to overcome someone like me, too. I wasn't a threat.

I looked up to watch Garrett walk back into the elevator. By his confident swagger, I could tell he didn't suspect anything about what I was doing.

Maybe. . .I was doing all of that to see the look on his face when it would all come crashing down around him.

My phone went off, and it was Ward. He may still only feel loyal to Garrett, but there was still something a little bit more about him.

"They want to know how Coulson was saved," he told me.

"They made sure he didn't remember," I said, thinking back to what my grandma had told me about that. Not much, but enough. "For some reason. It won't be possible. . ."

"He found a way to figure out. . ." He was saying. "What happened in Tahiti."


	83. Chapter 82

A/N: Please read and review!

I walked out the Triskelion one morning, constantly checking my cellphone from anything from Ward or especially from Nate about Garrett's interest and means of finding how Coulson had survived being killed off by Loki. Project Deathlock could be incredibly unstable, and that would be something the people he had worked for would be very interested in having. Garrett in particular would've loved to know how that was possible if I remembered what my grandma had told me about him and his life-changing and very nearly fatal mission.

A man wearing a dark suit and tie was carefully studying and following me as I walked back to campus. I started to take a very roundabout back onto campus to shake him from following me. It didn't work, so I stopped walking to allow him to catch up with me. For some reason, I thought he needed to speak to me for whatever reason known only to him.

"You took a risk to talk to me," I commented to Booth.

"I heard you helped hide them," he told me.

I bristled a little bit. That may not have been a good thing to hear about. If the wrong people heard about that. . .

"Who told you?" I asked him, scanning around us. I became even more paranoid by that point.

"Some guy called Cable," he told me, and I felt relieved about that. I was still under the radar which was a very good thing.

"Yeah," I finally said to him when I was finally able to ignore that paranoia. "I did. Some lawyer name Caroline pulled me out of the library when I was trying to study."

"She would do that," Booth replied. "But, how did she know you'd be able to help?"

I shrugged. "She told me she knew one of my great-uncles, so I think she knew what to expect."

"They weren't happy when they found out they were in the middle of Iowa," he told me. "But, they don't expect it all from you or your family."

"You think they would," I told him. "But, my family has never been outright duplicitous. Especially where S.H.I.E.L.D. is concerned."

"I think it's mostly you."

"That too," I agreed. "What did they want you to do?"

"Threat assessment," he said. "Threat removal, if needed."

"Threat assessment. . ." I repeated, and I shook my head. "For agents, or. . .?"

"Any agent," he said to me. "They want agents are able to do certain things or have certain ideals."

"Something that went against the oath they took," I remarked, and he nodded. "Don't worry. If any government agency and they appear to be threatening, they wouldn't be able to go far."

"That's why they weren't happy about that," he said. "For once, I love that law. . ."

"I'll pretend you the G-Man didn't say that," I replied, but it was move good natured.

"How long will this have to happen?" He asked me.

I shrugged. "Good question. . .I'm not sure. When it's over?"

"That's reassuring."

"How about I let you know when the danger isn't too great," I made a sort of promise. "But, I'm pretty sure you'd know."

Steve was waiting for me in my room when I walked in. I threw my keys on my desk and took off my suit jacket.

"Lauren let you in, I take it," I remarked, and he nodded.

"Just wanted to check up on you," he told me, reaching out to me. He brushed my windblown hair out of my face.

"You don't need any kind of an excuse to see me," I told him, giving him a small smile.

"Yeah," you're right. . ." Steve told me.

He was starting to hold me again, and I had rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes. For that moment, I let loose of that control of my emotions, and Steve was able to comfort me as best as he could, holding me pretty closely to him.

After awhile, he had me looked up at him, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. "Are you okay?"

I gave him a very faint and small smile. "Yeah. I am now."

His eyes became very soft as he gave me a gently and a tender look. "I can see that. . ." He gave me a light and very passionate kiss. "Good. . ."

"No need to worry about me," I told him.

"I'll always worry about you," he said. "It's because I love you."

As always, those words made me pause, and I gave him a very small smile and went back to burying my face against his chest. He was holding me, somehow understanding my reaction at what he had said to me. I was of two minds of him knowing me so well.

My phone started to go off, and I pulled away from him to answer it. He wasn't mad about something going on with me, only more curious.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. believes Mike Perterson to be dead," Ward told me. "So, Skye had his son under S.H.I.E.L.D. protection." There was that strange way he had said her name again. Looked like me and Nate were going to be the only ones on her side. Ward was starting to become a little too messed up, but if grandma thinks there's something good still within him, then I was willing to wait and see. "Coulson's been taken. . ."

He had ended the conversation, and I numbly placed my phone back on my desk. My emotions were going crazy for whatever reason. Things were really starting to happen, and I wasn't really used to that. I really wanted to throw up. Everything could go so terribly wrong.

Steve could sense the sudden change that came over me, and he was trying to get me to talk about it. I kept shaking my head and refusing to tell him anything. That was something he was not happy about.

"I thought you trusted me," Steve remarked.

"I do," I told him. "You know I do."

"Then, why won't you tell me?" He asked me. "I can see it's upsetting you. . ."

"I promised my grandma I wouldn't tell anyone unless I need their help," I honestly told him. "I keep my promises."

He shook his head. "Will you ever tell me?"

"Yeah. . .I think I would still need you. . .don't know when, though"

Before he could even say anything, I felt the need to throw up again, and I suddenly felt very hot. Things became very dim, and everything around me started to seem distant and disconnected. Steve went to support me to keep me from hitting my head the moment I had passed out.


	84. Chapter 83

A/N: Please read and review!

An icy cold hand rested against my forehead as I started to regain consciousness. Steve was still holding me, and Lauren was next to him with her hand on my forehead to help me cool down even more. That had never happened in years.

"She's awake," Lauren told Steve, and through the headache that was starting to really get worse, I could hear how relieved she sounded.

Steve relaxed a lot and held me a little closer to him. "Are you okay?"

I blinked several times, trying to figure out what I could really say or not. This was the type of thing I hadn't dealt with in a long while, so I wasn't used to that feeling. At that point, it had been almost eight years since I had an episode that bad.

"I have a terrible headache," I told him.

"Starving?" Lauren asked, pulling out some cold pizza for me to eat, and I gratefully took the box to scarf down the last of that pizza.

"Thanks," I told her.

"So, what happened?" Lauren asked Steve.

"We had a little argument," I admitted.

"After a phone call that had made her a little upset," Steve finished.

Lauren rolled her eyes. "And, you're still able to finish each other's sentences?"

"That's beside the point," I replied, and I quickly stopped talking to shake my head.

The headache became worse, and I started to become even more exhausted. That always seemed to happen one of those episodes, if they were bad enough. Steve helped me to my feet and helped to my bed, understanding I would have needed to sleep off one of my episodes. He lightly kissed my forehead, and I could see he seemed to pretty worried for me.

"Get better," he quietly told me. "Please. . ."

"I will," I replied, doing my best to reassure him. "Don't worry."

I slept through that whole afternoon and the whole night. An episode always ended like that, and I knew I needed to tell Hank about what was happening with me. Maybe he had some kind of an idea that would have made it much better.

During my free time between classes, I started to speak with my grandmother about what was going on. She knew that the boy could be used to make the father more compliant, and she was able to pull the right kind of strings to help the boy and keep him safe. Because she had the final say in who would do what and because no one was able to suspect her no matter what she would do, she was able to send agents only she could trust to protect the boy.

I spoke to my cousin Tyler and the Heroes for Hire and why it was created in the first place. Misty, the woman sort of in charge of that group, created the Heroes for Hire to help former convicts with certain abilities get past their old lives of crime and make their own way even though society would keep kicking at them even after they paid their debts to society.

"What's with the sudden interest?" Tyler asked me, and he actually sound suspicious of me. At first.

"You've been in New York City for far too long," I commented just to see what his reaction would be.

"Maybe you should answer a question," Tyler replied. He didn't take the bait. Unfortunately. Buzzkill.

"Hypothetically," I said to him. "I have someone who could join. . ."

"Depends," Tyler said. "Hypothetically?"

"Yeah," I said. "Some bad people experimented on him before they'll work to force to do some nasty stuff."

"Care to elaborate?" Tyler asked.

I made a face. "Not right now, but I will."

He snorted. "You're starting to sound more like your grandmother."

"Thanks."

"That's not supposed to be a compliment," he replied.

"I'm taking it as one, so there. . ."

At least the seeds were planted for Mike Peterson to redeem himself if he felt like he needed to.

After a very tense period of time had passed, Ward finally called me with an update on Coulson.

"I can see why you and your grandmother like Skye," he admitted, but it could have been more to it than that. It was probably going to be the start of me and Nate wondering if he was a little too obsessed with Skye. "She was the only one of us could find Coulson in her own way."

"Yeah. . .I know. . .right?" I ended up saying. It's probably the best that he didn't see me as someone even more suspicious. "I bet Hand is pissed off about that. . ."

"Do you know about what had happened to Coulson after he had died?" He suddenly asked me. "You were there. . ."

"No," I admitted. "From what I can tell action was immediate. . ."

"From what I was told by Garrett," Ward explained, his voice quiet. "He was seeing stars and galaxies, and they had to wipe away his memories of that period of time when he lost his will live." He took that moment to pause for me to be able swear under my breath. "Apparently the whole process was very painful for him."

"And Garrett said he wants to risk it?" I wasn't going to show him that I knew more about Garrett than he was really telling me.

"A higher purpose," Ward quickly replied. He had no idea. "He needs a miracle."

Totally could use that against him. Desperation could make anyone blinded. I don't know how, but I could wait to see when I could use that desperation against him.

At least he wasn't able to get that kind of information from Coulson.

Steve studied me for a moment, and he seemed to be unsure of what to really make of what he had noticed. He still did not like the fact I was keeping something big from him, but somehow, he was able to see I wasn't as worried about something.

He went to say something to me, but he went to stop himself. It might have been the same thing that kep me from moving or being able to speak to him. There was definitely something in his eyes that brought some heat to my face and my stomach flip around, and I couldn't really look him directly into his eyes. He pulled me to him to give me a very deep and passionate kiss that had made me melt into him.

We became very close on that night. . .much closer than ever before. . .


	85. Chapter 84

A/N: Please read and review!

Steve was holding me closely to him as we were lying on the floor of my dorm room. I had my eyes closed, and I was wearing a small smile. He lightly touched my head to make me open my eyes.

"Come on. . ." He quietly said to me. "Your roommate might show up. . ."

"That would be incredibly awkward," I agreed with him and allowed him to help me to my feet to quickly put our clothes back on. Knowing Lauren, she would gloat over that for the longest time.

He kissed me, but he could not allow himself to even leave me. Steve held me for the longest moment, and I didn't want to let go of him. That was when Lauren walked in, and she looked like she up a little more.

"Really?" She asked us. "One moment the two of you are fighting with each other and next you're inseparable. Yous guys are ridiculous sometimes."

To drive her point home, she rolled her eyes at the two of us.

I took the moment to look up at Steve. "I guess. . .we can't just stay mad at each other for very long."

"Or. . ." Lauren said, probably without even realizing it. "You're probably back to your old ways. Weird temper and shit. . ."

Steve gave me one more day before he had to leave. I closed my eyes for a moment. Suddenly becoming very exhausted. Lauren studied me with a concerned eye.

"You really need to take care of yourself," Lauren said to me. "You'll kill yourself if you're not careful."

"I'm fine," I said, and I really had to keep myself from laughing. She narrowed her eyes at me, and I quickly cleared my throat. "I'm seeing Hank tomorrow before DoM stuff tomorrow after lecture."

"Good. . ." Lauren told me. "Don't want you to get sick. You're passing out worries me."

"How touching."

"Coulson changed," Ward was telling me. "He tries to hide it, but you can tell if you look pretty closely. May's going to figure out what's with Skye's past."

"To keep him focusing on what he was forced to remember," I remarked, understanding why she would feel the need to do something like that. "I get that, but what's this about Skye?"

"You didn't know?" Ward asked, pretty surprised about that.

"I don't know everything," I snapped. "There are many things I don't know. So. . .what's the deal with Skye?"

"She's an 0-84," he said. "Something strange about her. . .she was found in Hunan Province of China. All of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents tasked with keeping some kind of an eye on her ended up dead from the shadowy and. . .evil man that had been following her since then."

"Does she know about that?" I blurted out loud.

"Now. . ." There was that strange hint again. It definitely wasn't a little crush. More an obsession. "She does. . .Coulson told her, and her reaction was never the way. . ." He really couldn't finish that one thought.

Why didn't grandma explain that to me before? She practically knew everything about the young woman, so why didn't she ever mention that strange fact?

What about it made her wish to keep it hidden? Was there more to it than we could ever realize?

I was quietly telling Hank about the different times I had passed out since what had happened with Pelant. He listened to what I was telling him with a frown of concentration.

"How much do you eat?" He asked me.

"A little here and there," I told him. "Lost my appetite when I was cured."

"Think back to when you were younger," he told me. "When you didn't eat as much as was needed, what happened?"

"I almost passed out," I said, but I shook my head. "It would be the worst the first time, but it never happened yet."

"That first time you body was trying to get used to your new powers," Hank told me. "But now, your body is still used to it."

I wasn't too convinced, but I was going to pull out my lighter when I got back to the dorm room to test out that theory.

"Eat more," Hank was telling me. "I know you're incredibly busy, but you really need to work to take better care of yourself. You'll be no good to no one if you're sick and run down."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said to him. Especially with things to closed to happening.

"Good," he said. "What does your grandmother have you doing for her anyway?"

"Some stuff she can't really do anymore," I quickly answered. If I couldn't tell Steve, I'm definitely not telling Hank.

"Then whatever it is," Hank told me before we dealt with our daily work. "Don't let it crowd out who you truly are."

I thought back to everything I had done and everything I was about to do. They didn't go against anything that had to do with how I was as a person.

"I'm not," I told him with a large amount of finality and promise.

"Good," Hank said. "We don't need another Nick Fury. We need more people like you. . ."

"Now you're only feeding my ego."

I was back in the dorm room, and I opened one of the drawers to my desk and pulled out one of the small jewelry boxes to take out the recently rarely used lighter. The ever familiar metallic click of my lighter filled the room. Since I got the cure, nothing came from that lighter, but on that one day, something changed. It was very faint, but there was finally that tongue of flame. I set the lighter back on my desk and went to my knees as I closed my eyes.

I felt joy, and I wanted to cry because I was so happy. It was going to take me a while, but I really was going to work to get my powers at least close to how they were before I was given the cure.

You can't kick me down, no matter how hard you may try. My stubbornness could be dangerous to you.

Steve had noticed I was more cheerful than before, and he gave me a questioning look. I pulled out my lighter, and he was able to see the very faint flame. He gently took my hand, and he closed the lighter before he went to pull me to him to give me a kiss. Steve held me very close to him.

"I'm not as worried about you," Steve said.

"Well. . .that's a start. . ." I replied as I wrapped my arms around his neck, and I closed my eyes as I breathed in his scent.

"I love you," Steve quietly said to me.

"And," I quietly said to Steve. "I love you, too."


	86. Chapter 85

A/N: Please read and review!

Lauren was staring at my three large plates that I had in front of me, and she quirked up an eyebrow in amusement. I started to eat, tearing into all of my food.

"Do you really think you can eat all of that?" She asked. she knew I had a lack of an appetite for almost a year. She had a feeling I was going to do the one thing I had always been doing at lunch, throwing all of the food away after eating only three bites of it all.

"You'll see," I told her, giving her a small smile as I started to eat.

She shook her head, never understanding anything about what I was really doing or what was really going on with me. All she had to do was ask the right questions, and I was going to tell her the complete and total truth.

My phone went off, and I had to answer it very carefully when I realized it's Ward. Lauren gave me a questioning look. It's more of a way to figure out what I was involved with. She knew me well enough to understand I was involved with something, just completely unsure of what it was, but she could understand it wasn't something I was going to tell her just yet.

"Donnie Gill can flash freeze anything he touches," he told me. "So, that's why Garrett was pretty interested in him, now."

"Sounds like something he would do," I replied, looking up at Lauren to see if she would even understand what I was even talking about.

"Quill's working for Garrett, now," Ward explained. "Whether he really knows or not. Anyway, Garrett says they have the same vision."

Lauren understood the look I gave to her, and she was quickly back on her feet and made a small excuse about needing to check on something else in the cafeteria. She was giving me some privacy to speak. No one else was around me.

"I'll trust your judgement from here on out," I said to him, playing the card I knew I had needed. It was mostly to see what he was going to do when he had his own autonomy. "You and Cable should talk to each other."

No one had any idea about Cable which was what I had needed.

"Fine," Ward said, and I could tell that he was suspecting nothing.

But, I had hoped there was no change with him. He was supposed to be the specialist my grandma had said he was, at first. The two of us were starting to wonder if maybe we should've reconsidered, and that was why there was Cable. He was still too loyal to Garrett from his cult-like brainwashing of him before he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. I was hoping my grandma was right to believe in him, and I was hoping she had another play with him that I wasn't really aware of at the time.

"When it comes out," he said, not ringing just right. "It would mean they would see me as the only traitor, and they wouldn't believe me when I told them about you."

Coulson, maybe, but I had a feeling he would probably had led Garrett or people like him straight to me.

"I'll figure something out," I reassured him before ending the conversation. He had no idea. "Don't worry. I've got your back. . ."

My grandma had found where Mike Peterson's ex-wife had ended up. She was a registered nurse, and oddly enough she ended up as a nurse for the local hospital and nursing home when my mom had worked only when she was needed. I don't know how it was even possible, but my grandma got a hold of the woman and convinced her to come to her for some afternoon tea.

I could imagine that conversation would have to be like. My grandma could be very scary when she was angry, and a mother abandoning her son and husband when they had needed her the most when their world had become tough and difficult than it was before. I'm pretty sure the poor woman was very intimidated by my grandmother. She could have that effect on people.

The woman left that meeting, understanding and agreeing she should raise her son and say to the public her ex-husband had died but not make her son forget about his father.

Garrett's hold over Mike Peterson was weakened once the boy was taken back to his mother by the trusted agents my grandma had handpicked to protect the boy on his way to the one state that would've made any of Garrett's people very uncomfortable.

Steve and I would always spend time together which was all something I had enjoyed. We could easily talk with each other and laugh with each other, and we both had needed it. He became lighter whenever we were together.

There was nothing that we had been doing that would imply all of the troublesome times ahead.

I walked into the Triskelion after all of my classes and my work with the doctor were done, and the office of Alexander Pierce was full of secrecy. Apparently. Steve and Natasha were on a mission to save some hostages on a S.H.I.E.L.D. ship that had trespassed in the waters they shouldn't have been in. Things were pretty tense in Pierce's office when I had walked in.

"The French Man -" Pierce was saying, talking about some kind of terrorist referred to as Batroc.

"He's Algerian," I automatically said, thinking back to how my mom's mother used to say to me as I grew up. "Big difference. Trust me."

Pierce gave me a questioning look, and I only gave him a shrug like I had no idea what was happening or why they were giving a strange look. That seemed to work for me, and Pierce brushed me aside like I wasn't really a threat to any of them and what they were doing.

A look passed across Fury's face like he could understand what's happening. It was a look of someone who was really working to get to the bottom of everything that's happening, and he wasn't happy about what he was seeing.

_Taken from the transcripts of key players by the F.B.I. Behavioural Analysis Unit._

**Prentiss:** What happened on the ship?

**Romanoff:** As Steve was rescuing the hostages, Fury had me gather the information stored on the ship. It all had to do with Project Insight.

**Prentiss:** You didn't have a problem with doing something he had no idea what you were really doing?

**Romanoff:** (Silence. The redhead was studying the other woman with a knowing eye. There was very little in the intelligence community that she did not know about.) Did you have problems with your team not knowing about your past, Lauren Renolds? Especially when Valhalla was picking off your old team?

**Prentiss:** How did. . . (The agent had to work to keep her composure. That was what the Black Widow was known to do. Unsettle her targets. She should have known about that with her mother being a Russian diplomat, especially during the time when the Black Widow was active in Russia.)

**Romanoff:** I was considered for infiltration, but you're more his type than I was.

**Prentiss: ** (shaking her head.) Just answer my question.

**Romanoff:** I'll answer the first one. Not at first. He was supposed to find out. It was a little awkward when he jumped through the window of the room I was working in.

Prentiss: Didn't Nick Fury create Project Insight?

**Romanoff:** He did. After New York, everything changed. . . (Pause. She shook her head.) It bothered them that Alexander Pierce was so quick to approve it.

**Prentiss: ** Them?"

**Romanoff:** Nick Fury and one of the few older agents he could trust. . .Joy. . .the Chessmaster. . .

Steve had finished speaking with Nick Fury, and he didn't look too happy. I walked over to him and gently rested my hand on his arm.

"Penny for your thoughts," I quietly said to him.

He looked at me before looking ahead of him. "Do you trust S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"I trust a few people who work for S.H.I.E.L.D.," I told him. "And, there are those I would never ever trust. It's just an organization."

"I wish I could see it like that," Steve quietly said to me.

He gently squeezed my hand, and that was the only way for the two of us could be very close in the middle of the Triskelion.


	87. Chapter 86

A/N: Please read and review!

I walked into the hospital, and I saw all of the commotion. Agents were swarming around the nurses and family members of the patients, and all of the ordinary people were giving them strange looks, trying to figure out what was going on. Something very bad happened, and it was only going to get worse from that moment on. It was that obvious just by looking at how a lot of the agents were acting.

Steve and Natasha were quietly speaking to each other, and Natasha looked very shaken and upset over what had just happened. The two of them stopped talking with each other when they saw me.

"How did you know about this?" Natasha asked.

"Lauren texted me to come pick her up," I said. "I have no idea what's going on right now. . ."

Natasha looked at Steve, narrowing her eyes with some suspicion. "Tell her what had happened, Steve."

"Fury was talking to me in his apartment," Steve told me, and I tipped my head to the side. I could tell he was telling me more about what had actually happened in his apartment than what he was actually saying out loud to me. "Somehow. . ."

"He's called the Winter Soldier," Natasha said, and I shuddered and went to touch my shoulder from when I was shot in Wakanda.

Steve noticed my reaction, and concern flashed across his eyes. "The Winter Soldier shot Fury, and he died in surgery."

That was enough for me to pause, and I closed my eyes. It's starting to happen. When I had opened my eyes, I saw my great-uncle, the doctor, and Hank very, very quietly speaking with Maria Hill about making the arrangements about Fury's body.

I coughed to clear my throat. "I'm sorry. . ."

Natasha shook her, and she walked away, leaving the two of us behind. She wasn't happy, so whatever happened between her and Steve had made her angry.

Steve looked around us, and none of the agents were really paying attention to us. "Give me your hand."

"Why?" I asked, crossing my arms behind my back.

"I need to give you something," he said very quietly and through clenched teeth. "Give me your hand."

I held out my hand, and Steve place a USB drive in it and quickly closed my hand.

"What's that?" I asked him, keeping my voice low, and I quickly hid the drive in one of the hidden pockets in my jacket.

"Fury gave it to me before he died," Steve quietly said to me. "Keep it hidden until I find you."

"I will," I promised him.

We could only look at each other. There was something horrible that could happen, and we could speak about it in that moment without being heard by the agents all around us. I wanted to reach out to him, but I knew we weren't alone.

Steve closed his eyes before looking at the ceiling. "Be safe, Birdie."

"I'll be fine," I told him. "_You_ be safe. . ."

I walked towards my dorm room, and I could tell someone somehow unlocked the door and was in the room. Lauren was still in lab at that point in time, so I pulled out my lighter and was ready to fight as I opened the door. Natasha was calmly sitting in my chair and very much looked like she had owned the place.

"I really don't appreciate you inviting yourself into my dorm room," I remarked as I closed the door and crossed my arms.

"How else am I ever going to learn anything?" She asked me as she stood to her feet. She was messing with her phone, and I could see she was recording our conversation over a call to Steve.

"Learn what?" I asked her.

"He gave you something back in the hospital, didn't he?" She asked me.

"A conversation," I told her. "he told me I should be careful about who I trust from S.H.I.E.L.D."

She quirked up an eyebrow at me. "And, do you trust him?"

"With my life," I said without any hesitation.

Natasha was going to respond, but Steve quickly came into my room. Even from under the hood he was wearing to be invisible and unnoticed, I could see the deep protective fury that was directed at Natasha.

"Why are you here?" He asked her.

"Let me help," she told him. "I can help you figure out what's on that drive."

Steve looked at me, and I gave him a small shrug. She wasn't on the list of strategic agents that couldn't be trusted, and of the very few people she had trusted, Fury was one of the them. Steve gave me a small and curt nod, and I pulled out the drive to give it to Natasha. She respectfully gave us some time alone, knowing she wouldn't leave without Steve.

He pulled me into a hug, and it was like he wasn't ever going to ever let go of me. We kissed each other, and Steve pressed his forehead against mine.

"Be safe, Birdie," he quietly said to me, reluctantly pulling away from me. "Keep your head down."

"I think I should be the one to tell you to be safe," I told him, and my voice shook a little. That was all of the emotion I was going to allow myself to show before he left me.

_Taken from the transcripts of the interrogation of Captain Steven Rogers by F.B.I. Agent David Rossi._

**Rossi:** Why did you give her the drive?

**Rogers:** Fury told me to trust no one, but I could trust her. She was the only person I could trust at that moment. (He paused, trying to decide if maybe he should say what he was thinking at that moment. Rossi had made the note of that kind of hesitation tied to his loyalty to her.) I knew she was the only person who could be under the radar. No one would ever suspect her.

**Rossi:** That doesn't sound like something you would say.

**Rogers:** (Hesitation)

**Rossi:** You might as well tell me for the record, even though we both know the reason.

**Rogers:** I've known her for a while, now. . .

**Rossi:** (He made a note on that answer. They needed to understand that part of what had happened.) What happened after you received the drive?

**Rogers:** Natasha wanted to figure out what was on it, so she led us to an. . .Apple Store.

**Rossi: **Why not her dorm room?

**Rogers:** (Silence) They would've known she was helping me and put her in danger.

**Rossi:** So. . .what happened?

**Rogers:** She couldn't get the information she had wanted from the drive. Some kind of. . .programming kept stopping her. . .(pause). It came from the same Army camp I came from (silence). The birthplace of S.H.I.E.L.D.

**Rossi:** What happened? (Here he made a note that the Captain was deeply disturbed by recalling what had happened.)

**Rogers:** When I woke up, Fury made sure to tell me that HYDRA was defeated, and that defeat created HYDRA. (Silence) (Here Rossi noted the great anger as he spoke about what was happening.) Schmidt's scientist was still. . .alive. . .he was the programming behind Project Insight. S.H.I.E.L.D. was HYDRA.


	88. Chapter 87

A/N: Please read and review!

Lauren walked into the room ten minutes after Steve and Natasha had disappeared, and when she saw the look on my face, she was starting to look pretty concerned.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" She asked me, and her voice was full of concern and worry.

I shook my head to clear it, and I had realized I needed to tell her what was going on. It was necessary that she needed to tell her what was going on. It was necessary that she needed to know it all before we were going to help Steve deal with "S.H.I.E.L.D."

"We're going to the closest mall," I told her, pulling her with me. "And. . .call the others. I'll tell you on the way."

She made a call to some of the people who had been in some of our classes and were willing to do anything that would distract them from having to do their homework or to study for any of their classes.

"What's going on?" She asked me.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. ain't S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore," I told her very quietly as we climbed into her car. "Actually. . .I don't think it ever was."

"What was it?" Lauren asked me as we went to that closest mall, and the others were behind us. She could believe me. No matter how ridiculous the things I would tell would start to be.

I looked around us like I thought someone untrustworthy was in the car with us us. It felt weird talking about it out in the open.

"HYDRA," I finally said.

"Wait. . ." Lauren said as we climbed out of the car, and we and the others walked into the mall.

I started to play with Lauren's phone to mess with the music. It was going to be the most random flash mob ever which had always been in the works forever apparently. It was going to be used to get in the way of the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents who were after Steve and Natasha, but it wasn't supposed to be like it's suspicious.

"How? When?" She asked me, taking back her phone as some Lady Gaga song went through the speakers.

The others started to dance like crazy, and they made sure to always be in the way of the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents to make it difficult for them to go after Steve and Natasha who were able to sneak out of the mall. Before he walked out of the mall, Steve looked at me, knowing I was directly involved with all of that. The Lady Gaga I chose was "Born This Way," so I think he knew enough to know I definitely was behind it all. I quickly made a small hand gesture to Lauren to keep her quiet as the leader of the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents, Rumlow, walked over to us when he recognized us.

"Not yet. . ." I told her, and she understood me.

"Steve Rogers always talks to you," Rumlow said to me. "Do you know where he would go?"

I shrugged and shook my head. "His apartment? Other than that. . ."

As I spoke to him, I slipped into a Southern accent to make me seem more innocent and clueless. It worked. . .somehow, but he still narrowed his eyes suspiciously at me before he left us.

Lauren shuddered before she started to cross herself. "He has soulless eyes."

"Of course he does," I said. "He's HYDRA."

"I was going to say evil," Lauren said.

"Same thing."

_Notes from my grandma, the Chessmaster, on the state of affairs of S.H.I.E.L.D._

After World War II and after HYRDA had fallen, an organization was created to protect people from the threats they could never comprehend or understand. That organization became known as S.H.I.E.L.D., and it's founding members were involved with the Strategic Science Reserve or the Howling Commandos.

But, they wanted to have access to technologies that could make their work much easier. "Former" HYDRA agents were drawn into the old group, much like other former Nazis, and no one questioned their presence at the beginning. What they brought to S.H.I.E.L.D. was much more important and made it easier for them to forget about their suspicions.

Howard Stark was suspicious in the end, and he spoke to the wrong people about them. He died in a horrible accident. Within S.H.I.E.L.D. they're saying Obadiah Stane was getting too antsy for some power and prestige, and Howard was in the way.

Not everyone swallowed that story whole, however.

Peggy Carter pulled me aside not too long after I had joined the organization. She was the woman who had recruited me, so she understood what I could and couldn't do. She was the only one who knew about the true extent of my strategic spymaster skills.

"You aren't an active S.H.I.E.L.D. agent anymore," she remarked. It was supposed to be a question, but Peggy already knew the answer to that one.

I could still clearly remember what had happened to Howard Stark, so I knew I needed to choose my words carefully. Things were such in that organization that had made me wary of everyone around me. There would still be a time when I would decide who to trust and who not to.

"I got married," I told her. "And, we're working to start a family soon. I don't ever want to leave them behind."

Peggy quirked up an eyebrow at me. "You've noticed it, too. Things aren't right." I did not say anything at first, feeling like this could have been a trap, but she did seem to be pretty genuine. "I've pulled some strings. . .you'll be a counselor for agents coming back from a mission that would go horribly wrong."

"I would have access to all kinds of information," I remarked.

She quirked up an eyebrow at me. "Yes. Of course. That's exactly where I want you."

I had access to all of the information I could ever need, and it was exactly as I had feared. That was how I started to plan and manipulate the situation. They believed I could be very trustworthy despite being known as the Chessmaster in some circles. They should not have expected anything from me.

S.H.I.E.L.D. took those HYDRA agents and gave them positions of power and trust, and they were allowed to add some more agents to the organization. It's no wonder why there were so many compromised agents.

Project Insight made me wish to act. They would use it to kill anyone who would have been considered too dangerous to live in the New World Order. Anyone with powers. . .my husband. . .my boys. . .and my grandchildren.

That was not acceptable. . .


	89. Chapter 88

A/N: Please read and review!

Lauren and I were in the caf when the news showed the footage of a fight that was happening on the bridge. People were trying to run to safety as the bullets rained down around them. There were heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who were attacking three people: a black man, a red headed woman, and Steve. I watched it with a mixture of fear and nervousness which really started to make me feel sick.

Steve was fighting a figure with what looked to be like a metal arm, and I was transfixed in horror the longer it would have lasted. I wanted to throw up, and Lauren gave me a look of concern as she wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"Are you okay?" She quietly asked me, and I shook my head. "It's going to be okay."

She had to repeat that to me over and over again to make me feel better, but i was still watching the footage on the news. Something had made Steve stop fighting as he looked at the mysterious figure, the Winter Soldier, and I could tell by the way he was looking at the Cold War assassin, he was deeply shaken. That was when the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were going to take him away, taking advantage of how distracted he seemed to be. I looked at what was happening, and I felt even more sick. This was pretty horrible. I needed to be right there and to be there and to help him.

My phone started to go off, and I quickly answered it, even though my hands were shaking far too much. I still wanted to throw up in that moment.

"Yeah?" I said.

"Something came up that I need your help with," Hank said. "Your grandmother said you can help with this."

"My grandma. . ." I said. "Wait. . .don't say anything more about that over the phone. Where do you want to meet?"

"I'm actually by the library," he said to me, and I could hear my grandma talking at him in the background.

"_Tell her she can bring Lauren."_

"She also says you can bring your friend, Lauren," Hank said, though I could tell he knew that I would've been able to hear what she had been saying at him.

I looked at Lauren, and she gave me a small nod. She was going to help me deal with what could happen next. We were going to deal with this together.

"Me and Lauren will meet you guys. . ." I said, and we left together.

_Taken from the notes of the interrogation of Lauren, "Snow Queen," Parcher done by F.B.I. Agent Derek Morgan._

**Morgan:** Where were you when she had gotten the call?

**Parcher:** We were in the Caf. Watching the news of what was happening. I was trying to comfort her, but she was far too devastated about what she saw on the news to really listen to me.

**Morgan:** Why is that?

**Parcher:** She was pretty close to Steve from the moment of what had happened in New York. He would always see her practically every weekend those months after that battle, and he taught her how to really fight. In the past year or so, they became more than mentor and student and became friends, but I have a feeling they're even closer than that. I don't think she wanted to lose him.

**Morgan:** You were questioned by Rumlow.

**Parcher:** (Pause) Not really a question. (Pause) Yeah, we were. He had these soulless eyes. They gave me the creeps.

**Morgan:** Did she say anything about him?

**Parcher:** Yeah. . .when he left. . .she called him HYDRA.

_Long pause. What Lauren learned should not have been known by anyone before the huge S.H.I.E.L.D. leak._

**Morgan:** Did she ever tell you how she knew about that?

**Parcher:** After. . .when she was in the hospital. . .she elaborated on everything. Her grandma was really high up in S.H.I.E.L.D., and she knew everything and everybody in that organization. She was a counselor, so she would've known which agent was not. . .right. . .she made sure she knew everything there was about what was happening.

**Morgan:** Were you aware of what she was doing?

**Parcher:** We're living together, and she's my best friend. . .practically my sister. I knew she was up to something. Before. . .I had no idea what exactly, but I trusted her to tell me when she thought it would be alright.

**Morgan:** What if it never happened?

**Parcher: ** Then, she would've told me when it was over. I would always trust her. No matter what had happened.

**Morgan:** You trusted her that day?

**Parcher:** I can always trust her. That day wasn't any different.

**Morgan:** Even though she didn't tell you about getting her powers back?

**Parcher:** Ever since she was given the cure, she had been telling us how impossible it was that it would've been permanent. She kept saying she was going to get her powers back. Somehow. She was always practices and checking. _(Morgan still made a note that she seemed to be offended at his questioning her friend's motivations behind her actions.) _ None of us really believed her, though. You know? Some people thought she was pretty desperate to get back something that defined her as a person. Wishful thinking, that sort of thing.

**Morgan:** So, you met them at the library.

**Parcher:** You really need to work on your questions. Dr. Hank McCoy and her grandma me us because the shit was hitting the fan.

**Morgan:** Where did you go?

**Parcher:** _(Pause. She shrugged, and she was not sure of what could be happening.)_ I don't know exactly where we went. It was some kind of hidden base. _(Pause. She seemed to have been pretty shaken over what had happened, even after some time had passed since that event.)_ I learned about what was going to happen. . .about Project Insight. I wanted to be very sick. Sick. They were so close to killing all of us. . .and. . .many, many more. . .millions more. . .HYDRA. . .HYDRA was still going strong. . .and hiding in the shadows. . .getting stronger and more powerful. . .


	90. Chapter 89

A/N: Please read and review!

Me and Lauren climbed into the waiting car at the library. We were wearing the dark clothing that we "borrowed" from Xavier's school when we were helping the X-Men. Over the X-Men uniform I was wearing, I had on a black long coat, and Lauren was only wearing a loose, leather jacket.

In the car were Hank and my grandma. Even though my grandma had to deal with her treatments that made her incredibly exhausted and sick more often than not, she was incredibly alert that day. Scarily alert.

"So, where are we going?" Lauren asked them.

Grandma made eye contact with Hank before she would even try to answer anything. She knew more about what was going than we did.

"It's an old hideout of mine whenever I have to be in D.C.," she said to us. "No one in S.H.I.E.L.D. even knows its existence."

Hank drove us to that hidden base, and my grandma was going to catch us up on everything whether we (meaning me) needed it or not.

Nick Fury had died in surgery after he was shot by the Winter Soldier when he was trying to give Steve the very important flash drive with all of the information on Project Insight and put an end to it. Following those events, Steve was on the top of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most wanted list because they didn't want him to know the truth or to stop them. They were originally going to have him be a martyr for their cause and for their New World Order.

Steve and Natasha had found out that S.H.I.E.L.D., probably from the very beginning, had been infiltrated by HYDRA who was willing to wait for the right time to come out of the shadows. Anyone who asked the right questions and caught the wrong kind of suspicions were immediately removed as threats. That's how Howard Stark and his wife had perished in their "accident." That plane crash that had made Peter Parker an orphan? His father refused to use or even share his research with S.H.I.E.L.D., and he and his wife were threatening to turn state's witness over something. It was why the Avenger's Initiative was stopped long before it could gain any kind of traction. Why used the people who could eventually take you down and give them a reason fight together side-by-side? The Mutant Cure Wars was up there, and anything William Stryker and his family had done over the years had to do with whatever endgame the different factions with HYDRA were trying to achieve.

Steve, Natasha, and a third man found and dealt with Agent Jasper Sitwell who was really a high level HYDRA mole after Alexander Pierce. He elaborated on Project Insight, killing all who would be considered a threat to the New World Order. Sitwell ended up getting killed by the Winter Soldier.

At the name of that shadowy assassin, I lightly touched my scarred shoulder and lightly grimaced from my memory of being shot in Wakanda after helping T'Challa. Apparently, he was Pierce's puppy dog, following his every order to further HYDRA's plans.

"Rumlow has the three of them," my grandma said to us. "We don't need to think too hard on what they were going to do to them."

I felt sick, and I wanted to throw up. I didn't need to guess too hard on what could happen to them. They were very powerful threats that needed to be removed in secret.

Rumlow was going to shoot Steve. . .

Before I could even say anything, my grandma raised a hand to keep me quiet.

"They are already being extracted," she said to me. "Rumlow has never been that careful."

She spent the rest of the drive out of the city on the phone talking to an old CIA colleague and friend of hers named Moira MacTaggert who had ended up on the World Security Council. Lauren reached out to me, and she lightly wrapped an arm around my shoulders when she could see I was still freaking out over what could be happening to Steve. I wanted to trust and believe my grandma, but my emotions were not making that even remotely possible. Any small part of the greatest plans could ruin everything in the whole.

I didn't want to lose Steve at all.

We arrived at the out-of-the way base at the same time as an unmarked armored vehicle. Maria Hill stepped out of it as an African American man and Steve were supporting Natasha. Blood was running down her arm from one of her shoulders, and she had been slowly turning grey from the blood loss. It was a gunshot wound to her shoulder. Hank had stopped walking with grandma to walk to the the injured agent.

I could hear Maria giving orders to Hank, but me and Steve could only focus on each other. I wanted to run to Steve to hug him tightly and never let him go, but there was that rational part of me that knew that was not the time or the place. Steve wore the same expression on his face that had mirrored everything I was thinking and feeling. He had that haunted look to his eyes from whatever he had seen about the Winter Soldier, and I wanted to be the one to do my best to comfort him the way he had done for me when my mother had died.

"I'll take her," Hank had said, and he went to Natasha, trying to see her shoulder.

My grandma was watching that scene, both hands were resting on the top of her sword-cane. "She probably wants to see him first."

"Him?" Steve asked.

I looked at my grandma, feeling shocked. "Him? You don't mean. . .?"

She raised a hand to keep me from saying anything more. "Spoilers."

My grandma and I led everyone to the other room. It was a makeshift hospital room full of expensive-looking medical equipment. Everyone stopped short when they saw the man in the bed, unsure of what to make of that scene. We were trying to believe what we were seeing, but we could recognize him even behind all of those bandages.

"About time you showed up," Nick Fury said to us.


	91. Chapter 90

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>"About time you showed up," Nick Fury had said to them when they came into the room.<p>

The beaten and battered man was trying to sit up in his bed. It was pretty clear he was favoring one side over another, even though that was still pretty painful for him. When Hank had helped Natasha into the room, she had seemed to be pretty upset over seeing him still alive. I heard she had practically broke down at the hospital when she had learned he had died in surgery, so it was not too surprising to see her be just upset for seeing him still alive after basically being tricked into believing he had died.

I had stopped walking, trying to understand how that was even possible, and I had to quickly shake my head to get myself to understand what could have happened. Steve looked at me for a moment, understanding I had been completely surprised over that kind of a situation.

"Tetrodotoxin B.," Fury had said. "Reduces the heart rate to one beat per minute. Banner made it for his stress issues. It didn't go well for him, but we found uses for it."

"How would you get the doctors involved?" Natasha asked as she went to carefully sit in one of the chairs. "S.H.I.E.L.D. was there very quickly. They would have seen that slight of hand trick."

My grandma started a very small smile at that. She was the type of person who would do something like that to get the needed attention on her, so she could make her dramatic revelations.

"My brother-in-law was the surgeon," she said. She also took a careful seat on one of the chairs, holding her cane between her hands.

"Still doesn't mean they wouldn't have seen that slight of hand," Natasha replied as Hank had pressed a dressing on the shoulder that had been shot. "They'd be more suspicious because of Becca's connection to Steve."

"My work at S.H.I.E.L.D. made me and my family impeccable," my grandma had said to her. "From the beginning, I kept my head down and said the right things to keep them from seeing me as a threat."

"If you knew about this. . ." Steve said, and he was angry.

I lightly touched his arm to get him to calm down, but he shrugged away from me.

"I did figure it out," my grandma had calmly admitted to him. "After Howard Stark had been killed. . ." She became quiet as she had thought about another even that had made her open her eyes to what had happened. "And other events. . .had made me realize that S.H.I.E.L.D. was HYDRA, but I wasn't going to tell anyone about it. I had a family to think about. If I said the wrong thing to the wrong person, my husband and my boys would have disappeared being deemed as 'mutant terrorists' for existing. I had to be careful."

Steve went to say something, but he knew he could not argue with her. He quickly looked down at me for a moment, trying to see what my grandma had been talking about. I could tell he understood her actions.

"I worked in the shadows," my grandma said to them. "Finding people who could be loyal to me. Just like the HYDRA members had been doing."

A flash of recognition flashed across Natasha's face for a moment. "You're the Chessmaster."

"Yes," she said.

Steve looked at Natasha for a moment, trying to understand what that could have meant, and he did notice I did not look too surprised over that kind of realization.

"What does chess have to do with this?" Sam Wilson had asked out loud. He was probably the only one who wouldn't have known the significance about it.

"An urban legend," Maria Hill had said, and she seemed to be just as surprised as Natasha. "When we first join the Academy, older students would say we need to be careful about our secrets and information otherwise the Chessmaster would steal it and manipulate you."

"There was always this one person who would act in the shadows," Natasha had explained. "Watching everything we would do."

"If I couldn't deal with them out in the open," my grandma had said, and she was not going to outright deny what she had needed to do. "that was how I got some loyal agents."

"Why were you waiting?" Steve had asked her. He did not sound quite as angry as before. He was starting to understand why my grandma did not tell anyone about what she had found about S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Proof, I guess. . ." My grandma said. "Maybe I didn't want to believe it. . ." She shook her head. "I guess. . .I wanted something that would have made them hang themselves, so it wouldn't have been seen as a 'mutant' plot or something like that. The only way to stop HYDRA for a good many years would be to completely remove the influential leaders and members. To do that would be to figure who was involved with who."

I think I was the only one who heard those air quotes when she had said "mutant," and she was looking directly at me when she was saying it, trying to get me to understand what she was trying to say to me about that sort of thing.

What could she have meant by that? What could be the ultimate meaning behind not outright saying mutants? For a moment, I thought I wasn't happy about that. She didn't need to talk to the same level as other agents, calling the mutants the "other" to a dehumanizing effect. That was what made it easier for them to treat them horribly. But, I stopped thinking like that.

Like everything else my grandma would do, there was a reason why she spoke like that, and she had wanted me to know that. For whatever reason.


	92. Chapter 91

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Nick Fury had been holding an older picture of himself with Alexander Pierce. He was not happy over how things had turned out with the politician. "This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize. He said that peace is not an achievement but a responsibility." He tossed the picture onto the table like it had been trash to him. "It's stuff like this that gives me trust issues."<p>

I quietly shook my head and closed my eyes. If there was anything that would have made me lose faith in humanity, it would have been that moment. Alexander Pierce was supposed to be the politician I had wanted to become myself when I would be older. Honest. Doing the right thing to help the people and the world around him. Too bad he turned out to be just another politician.

That type was seen on the news almost every day. There would be a politician who would oppose something very strongly. Homosexuality or anything to do with the second amendment would seem to be on the top of their lists of horrible things that would need to be gone from this world and from our lives. It was only a matter of time before scandal would actually erupt. They would either be caught with another man or involved with illegal arms trafficking for some pretty nasty gangs who probably shouldn't have those weapons.

If he could fool the whole world, then who else was under HYDRA's control?

It made my skin crawl as I thought back to everything I had to know what the government had been doing over the years. HYDRA's reach had to be pretty long indeed. They did have over seventy years of wiggle room.

They had already started to make some kind of a plan to stop Project Insight from even happening and to take down HYDRA. There was some kind of working plan in progress, but they could not agree on how to even execute it.

I looked up at Steve, and I could tell he was upset about something horrible that had happened on the bridge. I felt concerned for him, and I lightly touched his arm to have him look down at me. He really did look hurt. Nothing physical. He could deal with that without an issue. It was more. . .emotional pain, and it was pretty clear within his eyes.

"You okay?" I asked him. My voice was pretty quiet, so no one could really hear what we were talking about.

He shook his head. "I don't know. . ." His voice was very quiet, and I almost didn't hear how little his voice had been shaking as he had started to speak to me. "I saw Bucky. . ."

Steve quietly told me about his reunion with the assassin who was even more of spy urban legend than my grandmother. The Winter Soldier.

I went to touch my shoulder that had been shot over the summer. That had been from the Winter Soldier. My grandma knew that by only studying the bullet that had been taken from my shoulder during the surgery.

Steve saw my slight movement, and he gently took a hold of my wrist. He was going to look at the scar that had always constantly worried him since I had been shot in Wakanda. That didn't make him feel any better. Worse.

"I. . ." I was trying to say. For some reason, I felt like I had needed to apologize to him for what I didn't do for his friend. "I didn't know. . .I'm. . .so sorry. . ."

I was looking up at him, having him feel the need to pull me into a hug. He lightly kissed my forehead. That was far too surprising for me. Here he was so upset, but he was trying to make me feel so much better.

"It's. . .okay. . ." He was trying to calm me down, or, at least, get me to stop focusing on that past moment. "I didn't know either until I saw his face.. . ." He actually shuddered as he had to recount that moment on the bridge. "He didn't recognize me or his name. . ."

"It was like something else had taken over him," I said, thinking about what had happened to Jean Grey. She wasn't able to recognize her own name, Scott, or even their children at first.

Steve had given me a look for a moment, surprised i would even say something like that. I returned the look as a way to tell him it was knowledge gained from experience.

"Something like that. . ." He had said to me.

He had lightly wrapped an arm around my shoulders, but he was still going to be thinking about everything in that moment that had happened to Bucky.

"It's probably Arnim Zola," he told me. "When I found Bucky, it looked like. . .he was some kind of. . .test subject. . .that would explain how he. . ."

"Survived the fall. . ." I quietly finished for him, and he gave me a very small nod. I gently squeezed his hand in some kind of reassurance for him, and it looked like he had probably needed it.

"We have to assume everyone on board those Helicarriers are HYDRA. We have to get past them. Insert those server blades. And, maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left. . ." Fury was trying to say.

My grandma had pressed her lips together, not happy to hear what he was even considering. Steve took a step away from me to look at Fury. Even Natasha didn't like that kind of plan.

"We're not salvaging anything," Steve had said to Fury.

I could see what he was talking about. He needed someone at his side. "We're not just taking down the carriers. We're taking down S.H.I.E.L.D. There is no way to continue with what we've got."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has nothing to do with this," Fury had said to Steve, giving me a look.

"You gave me this mission. This is how it ends," Steve said, becoming that leader I had looked up to for basically my entire life. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s been compromised. You said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose, and nobody noticed."

"Why do you think we're meeting in this cave?" Fury replied. "I noticed."

"How many people paid the price before you did?" Steve asked.

"Look. . ." Fury had said to sTeve. "I didn't know about Barnes."

"Even if you had, would you have told me?" Steve demanded. "Or, would you have compartmentalized that, too? S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA. . .it all goes."

"He's right," my grandmother had said. Everyone had looked at her. "If you truly believe in S.H.I.E.L.D. you can always rebuild with the most trustworthy of your agents. . .I mean. . .that what I would do. . ."

Fury looked at Natasha, and she seemed to agree with Steve and my grandma. He had looked at Sam Wilson who only shrugged and crossed his arms.

"Don't look at me. I do what he does. Just slower."

"Well. . ." Nick Fury said, resigned to the situation. "Looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain."


	93. Chapter 92

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>That was how we had started to plan to take down S.H.I.E.L.D. and put an end to Project Insight and keep HYDRA from completely taking control of the whole world.<p>

"Leaving all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secrets to the whole world is important," my grandma had said, and Fury had narrowed his eyes at her. He didn't think that was necessary, and my grandma could notice that. "Otherwise. . .we would only be seen as traitors. Even the ones who had been fighting back. If you want to stop it all, you need to show that important proof."

There was a silence that filled the room as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had to start to understand what was happening and what they had to do to stop Pierce. They had to understand, and my grandma had the air about her that would have made anyone wish to listen to her. No one would have been crazy enough to go against the Chessmaster.

She looked to Natasha. "You can be the one who would leak the information."

"Pierce would know not to trust me," she said to my grandma.

That was when I had started to snort as I had walked over to her to hand her a garment bag and a box full of the more important piece of technology that would have been needed at the moment. It was a mask that would have completely cover the wearer's features and altered the voice in such a way that would have made anyone, no matter how clever, the fool.

"Moira McTaggert's a friend," I told her when she gave me a strange look. She understood what I had meant with that.

Moira and my grandma had worked together with that first team of the X-Men of which my grandpa, Professor Charles Xavier, Dr. Hank McCoy, and Magneto had been a part of, and when she became a more senior agent, she became a member of the World Security Council at my grandma's urging. Much of what we knew about what was happening with the Council had come from her. She also knew about what had happened within the organization almost as well as my grandma, but from a different way and perspective, and she had been doing what she could to help my grandma over the years.

"She'll meet with you to switch places," I said to her.

"We'll need two higher level agents to release all of the information," Natasha said to me.

"I'll be there," my grandma had said to her. "He still thinks I'm loyal to him and his S.H.I.E.L.D."

She was far too pleased about that.

"Fury would be there, too," I said to her. "They had me be in charge of updating the files. For some reason no one expects the eye covered by an eye patch."

That was when the finer details had been hashed out. Natasha was going to be Moira McTaggert. Steve and Sam would do what they could to take out those Helicarriers. I was going to be wherever I was needed. Mostly playing with fire. I love playing with fire.

Fury, Natasha, and Maria had been looking at me when I said I would help out on the Helicarriers.

"You had the cure," Natasha said to me. She knew about what had happened the year before.

Steve was the only one, probably other than my grandma, who was not concerned about that. He had to really work to keep himself from showing a small amount of amusement when he must have realized I was working to keep myself from smirking at them.

I pulled out my lighter and flicked it to show the flame. With a dramatic hand gesture, the flame came to my hand, much to the surprise of the agents and Hank.

"I think I'll be fine," I said to them, closing my hand around the flame to take it out.

* * *

><p>The Behavioral Analysis Unit of the Federal Bureau of Investigation was staring at the quiet, young woman with long blond hair in the interrogation room. She stubbornly refused to even say anything to any of them even if it would have been better for her after everything that had happened that she had been heavily involved with. She made a point of showing them she refused to trust them.<p>

The head of the team, Aaron Hotchner, had been quietly speaking to the other of the older agents, David Rossi. They were trying to figure out a way to get her to speak, and many of the ideas they came up with were never going to work with her.

"How can she sit still and quiet for hours on end?" Hotchner had asked.

"A strategy," Rossi had remarked. "To make us uncomfortable. She's trying to get the better hand here."

"I still find it difficult to believe she can have that level of control. . ." Hotchner had remarked, looking back at the girl in the room who did not appear to be cunning in any way.

There was another agent who had appeared, showing his credentials without any kind of an issue. Hotchner and Rossi had looked to him with some amount of surprise.

"I'm Agent Seeley Boothe," the man had said, and they recognized him from his disgrace from a corrupt group within the F.B.I., and it was proven he had been framed. He was dealing with the grief of losing a close friend in the aftermath. "I'm here to speak with her.'

They allowed him to speak to her, expecting it would have not been useful for them. There was no reason for the young woman to even speak to him. They would have thought it to be interesting to watch how unsuccessful he would be.

Boothe sat in the chair across from the young woman, and the young woman did not appear to be quite as cold and as standoffish as before. She sat up and leaned forward to rest her arm on the table in front of her.

Clearly, she had tolerated him much more than any of them on the B.A.U. team.

"Or," Rossi remarked. "she was trying to get her way on who she would speak to."


	94. Chapter 93

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>F.B.I. Special Agent Seeley Boothe walked into the small interrogation room, and he had been followed by his partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. They were both grim and quiet as they had looked back at her, and she was able to sit in her chair like she was more willing to speak to them. She was not as aloof as before.<p>

The Behavioral Analysis Unit had watched the change that came over her, and they had realized it had been a complete difference from the cold indifference of before.

"She was trying to get her way," Morgen had remarked, and he had not been happy about that sort thing. "We never do that."

"She's not a criminal," Rossi had to remind him. "We need her to answer questions about what had happened and her involvement."

"Then," Morgen was saying. "Why wouldn't she talk to us?"

"They're community is made mostly of mutants," Spencer Reid had said. "They don't trust anyone unless their trust would be earned." He paused for a moment, thinking about what had happened in the Midwest. "Don't blame them."

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><p>Taken from the transcripts of the interrogation of Rebecca Tjaden, Firebird, by F.B.I. Special Agent Seeley Boothe and Dr. Temperance Brennan.<p>

Tjaden: So. . .I'm glad to see everything worked out okay. Mostly. . .

Boothe: The Leak helped.

Brennan: He took control of the J. Edgar Hoover Bulding when HYDRA started to attack. That helped, too.

Tjaden: (Cracked a small smile) What did you want to know? I might tell you. . .

Boothe: How long ago had your grandmother told you about S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA?

Tjaden: (Snort of laughter. They made note of her rolling her eyes.) She didn't tell me. Not at first.

Boothe: Then what happened?

Tjaden: My sophomore year in high school was when my great-grandmother had passed away, and Alexander Pierce came to the visitation. He was talking to me, and there was something about him that had bothered me. I couldn't see why though. It just bothered me.

Boothe: What do you mean?

Tjaden: (Shrugs) Hard to describe. . .I guess. . .(Pause as she had to figure out what to say to next.) He was trying to say the right thing at the right moment. Manipulative. I wanted to set him on fire. . .

Brennan: Why didn't you?"

Tjaden: (Wearing a more horrified look) Figure of speech! Figure of Speech!

Boothe: Anyway. . .what did you do next?

Tjaden: I talked to my grandma about what I had realized, and she told me everything. That was how I started to help her.

Brennan: The Chessmaster. . .

Tjaden: My grandma's the Chessmaster. More like. . .The Red Queen. . .or something. . .

* * *

><p>Steve had been standing on the cement bridge-thing as he had been looking down at the ravine below him. He was pretty quiet and thoughtful. He was probably thinking about Bucky being the Winter Soldier and what he could do to help him.<p>

Turned out I wasn't the only one who had been concerned about him. The man named Sam had been watching him with some concern, but he stopped what he was doing to look at me.

"If we're going to fight together," he said to me. "I'm Sam Wilson."

I did shake his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Becca. . .if you haven't already guessed. . ."

"His girl?" Same had asked me.

"I don't belong to anyone," I quickly replied, startling him, but I did give him a small smile. "Yes. . ."

"He trusted you," Sam remarked.

I shrugged as I looked back at him as I walked towards Steve. "I think he didn't want me to follow him or something."

Oddly enough, I didn't even want to think about that even though it was pretty obvious. I guess, no matter what Steve would try to do or say otherwise, outright saying something like that would've made me feel very uncomfortable.

I walked towards him, and I lightly touched his arm to have him look down at me. He was trying to plan something to help Bucky.

"When you helped that friend of yours," Steve had quietly said to me. "And. . .his mother was not herself. . ."

I sighed, and I became a little upset over what had happened to Jean Gray. There was nothing that would have made me forget about my hand in her death. No matter how you would look at it, her death was my fault. In some way.

"In this situation, Steve," I said to him, noticing Sam had walked towards us. "Three possibilities. He wouldn't remember you and would kill you with no hesitation or reaction, or he would kill you, and that would be enough to help him remember. . ." I had to pause to take a deep breath. That wasn't something I wanted to think about let alone say out loud. "Or, he would remember, and he would not like what he had done in the past. . ."

That was all I was going to say about that. . .

Steve was silent. He understood what I told him He didn't want to dwell on that too much. He created his own possibility, and he was going to do everything he could to make it happen.

It was why he was the natural leader. He would do whatever he could to help the people who would've needed his help. It was why I loved him. . .

"Look. . ." Same had said, and we looked at him. "Whoever he used to be. . .the guy he is now. . .I don't think he's the guy you save. He's the kind you stop."

Steve didn't want to think like that, and he couldn't allow himself to even consider something like that. "I don't know if I could do that. . ."

"Well," Sam said. "He might not give you a choice. He doesn't know you. . ."

"He will," Steve said, and he sounded so sure of himself as he started to walk back towards the base. "Gear up. It's time."

"You gonna wear that?" Sam asked Steve.

"No," Steve had said, and I knew what he meant by that. "If you're going to fight in a war, you gotta wear a uniform."

Me and Sam looked at each other before I started to cackle.

"What?" Sam asked me.

"I always wanted to rob the Smithsonian," I said to him before I ran after Steve.


	95. Chapter 94

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Lauren and I were standing in the shadows of the Smithsonian exhibit for the return of Captain America. I was playing on her cell phone to remove the alarms from the exhibit for Steve to steal his old suit from World War II.<p>

"You really need to get yourself a smart phone," she said to me, and she took back her phone.

"Should get one this summer," I said to her.

"Why didn't you get one now?" She asked me.

"New kindle books. . .smart phone. . ." I whispered to her. "Difficult choice."

"Really?" She asked me, but she rolled her eyes at me. "Why am I not surprised?"

"So. . ." I said to her. "Did you call who I told you to?"

"Well, yeah. . ." Lauren answered. "He's busy, so Lampman volunteered."

That was the thing I had wanted to know about at the moment, and I gave her a horrified look. It took a moment before she was able to comprehend what I had communicated to her.

"Oh. . .crap. . ." Lauren said. "I'm so sorry. Didn't realize. . ."

"Too late, now," I said to her, and I could hear Jacob starting to create some kind of a scene. "Way too late."

He came into the scene, and he was yelling in strange voices, and he had his face painted in five different colors because of. . .reasons. He wasn't wearing a shirt, so he had his chest painted with those different colors.

"Oh, come on!" He was yelling. "I can totally walk in here. Doing my paper on this!"

"Sir," the security guard said to him. "We're closed right now."

"How the hell am I supposed to write my paper on this?" He had demanded. "I have classes all day. . ."

The guard went to walk closer to him, and he had started to dance around him, completely changing the subject. He was doing that for a few moments before he realized we were there, giving him confused looks. Jacob had returned a "what" look to us.

We pointed at the exhibit before letting him know he should leave that part of the museum, so Steve could get his suit. Jacob rolled his eyes, but he had to work to keep himself from smiling too much.

"Okay. . .bored. . ." Jacob had said to the guard before jogged away. Because of his Gift, he was still faster than the guard even when he was jogging.

Steve was able to get back his old suit before an older security guard walked through the exhibit on his rounds. I thought he had looked familiar, but Lauren was pulling me away with her before I was able to get a good look at him.

"Oh, man," the guard had said. "I am so fired. . ."

* * *

><p>We were getting ready to storm into the Triskelion to fight the Project Insight and HYDRA. Every was pretty quiet and serious.<p>

Hank had walked into the room, struggling with the zipper of the old yellow and black X-Men suit that was his back when he had created that first iteration of the team. Me and Lauren had shared a look.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"I still fit in the old suit," he said, but he realized he had to stop messing with the suit. "Mostly. . ."

I went to leave with Lauren, but Steve gently grabbed my arm. He was looking down at me intently. I met his look, not able to look away from him. He did appear to be worried for me, but there was a part of him who had to accept that I didn't need to be babysat throughout the whole mission. Steve of all people would have known I knew how to protect myself. That still didn't keep him from worrying about my safety.

"Be careful," Steve had to quietly say to me.

"I should say the same thing to you," I replied, taking step back from him. Natasha had been watching us before she left to be Moira McTaggert.

"I can't be at your side the whole time," Steve said to me. "And, you have a tendency to be in over your head."

"Don't worry," Lauren said to Steve. "I'll keep an eye on her."

There was no way Steve could argue with her no matter how hard he would've wanted to.

"Anyway," I said to Steve. "You're the one who taught me how to fight, remember? And, I have my powers back. I can definitely take care of myself."

Steve gave me a close look. He was able to see through what I had said to him, and that didn't make him too happy with me at the moment. "Do you have the full control you used to have?"

"Totally," I said, and the look became a little darker. The tone of voice I had used and my flippant attitude were not something he wanted to hear in that moment. "Just because I couldn't use my powers for a number of months, does not mean I forget the tricks and skills I had picked up over the years. I'll be fine."

He had to believe me when I said that to him. He had to have heard the confidence in myself and my powers when I spoke to him. There was no proof, but we didn't really need it.

* * *

><p>Taken from the transcripts of the interrogation of Captain Steve Rogers by Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I.<p>

Rossi: So, you just believed her? No proof?

Rogers: She would know her powers better than I would. (There was something more to that, and Rossi made a note that Steve had needed to believe what he had said to him.)

Rossi: You trusted her even though she has deep S.H.I.E.L.D. connections?

Rogers: She had just enough to lose with Project Insight. She, her whole family, her friends, and her whole community would have been wiped out because of their powers.

Rossi: About those powers. . .she had strange DNA. . .not mutant. . .almost. . .inhuman. . .

Rogers: (Silence)

* * *

><p>We were in the Triskelion, and Steve had been looking down at all of the agents. The rest of us had flanked his sides to be his support and protection.<p>

"Attention all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents," Steve had said to them. "This is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days, and some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But, I think it's time you know the truth. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by HYDRA." That was the agents had eyed each other warily. "Alexander Pierce is their leader. The S.T.R.I.K.E. and Insight crew are HYDRA as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want: absolute control. They shot Nick Fury, and it won't even there.

"If you launch those Helicarriers today, HYDRA would be able to kill anyone who stands in their way. Unless we stop them."

That was when he had looked down at the agents below us, and I could tell his words were able to affect them some more.

"I know I'm asking a lot," Steve had continued. "But, the price of freedom is high. It always has been, but it's the price I'm willing to pay. And, if I'm the only one, then so be it." He paused for a moment. "But, I'm willing to bet I'm not."

He turned around to us. I gave him a small smile.

"Did you write that down first?" Same had asked him. "Or was it off the top of your head?"


	96. Chapter 95

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>Me and Lauren landed in one of the places the Helicarriers that were starting to rise had been kept. The S.T.R.I.K.E. agents were making it difficult for the non-corrupted agents to stop their launch, and they were shooting them. We ran at them, and Lauren quickly touched the ground to make it icy enough for those agents to lose their footing. They had turned their attention to us when they realized we had been there.<p>

I burst into flame and flew at them, and I couldn't forget the face I set them on fire. Lauren and Hank had stayed in the Triskelion as I flew out of the hanger to land on one of the Helicarriers. Same had seen me land, and he paused for a moment, having not to expect to see something like that to happen.

"What?" I asked him.

"You can fly?" He finally asked me.

"Firebird. . .doesn't that sound like I can fly?" I asked him before I had started to cackle.

"Guys," Steve had to say to us. "Focus."

There had been so much shooting, so I pulled out my lighter to throw the fireballs at those HYDRA agents, making them duck out of my way for Sam to be able to replace one of the targeting chips in the Helicarrier. One of the Quinjets tried to shoot at Sam, and I was able to throw a fireball at the turbines to make it crash on the Helicarrier.

I was going to burst into flame when I heard a gunshot. The force of the bullet was enough to make me collapse to the ground. My leg had been shot, though I didn't register the pain as much as the shooter would've expected. At that point of my life, I've dealt with much, much worse.

The Winter Soldier had started to walk towards me, probably to finish the kill. I could see his eyes were the emptiness of someone who had been brainwashed. My hand went to the gunshot wound to my leg, and I closed my eyes for a moment to help myself concentrate. The heat went straight to my hand, becoming pretty white hot as I was able to start to cauterize the wound.

I came to my feet, and I ran to the edge of the Helicarrier and jumped off the edge. As I fell to the ground, I burst into the flame bird I preferred when I would start to fly, and the Winter Soldier jumped into one jet to follow me as I had to fly around the Triskelion and those Helicarriers that were getting into the air before I came into one of their control centers.

As I had landed on the Helicarrier, I started to walk towards that control center to switch out one of the chips. The fire had started to slowly fade away as I walked, still creating that crazy kind of sight. I threw fire at the remaining HYDRA agents who seemed shaken at my appearance, and I was able to switch out those chips.

"Second one switched," I said.

"One more. . ." I could hear Steve say, but he had suddenly stopped talking when I thought I heard a gunshot over our communication links.

That made me take pause, trying to process what was actually happening. I wanted to throw up over what I had started to feel was happening.

"No. . .no. . ." I was saying to myself over and over again, and I started to run out of there. I was going to see what had happened and help Steve if he would have needed my help.

"You!" I heard the voice of the youngest Stryker who was my age.

Of course he would be dealing with HYRDA. They had the same kind of values and goals in life. That shouldn't have surprised me.

"Baby Stryker!" I replied. I was too upset and pissed to keep myself from insulting him too much. "Fancy seeing you here."

That was when the Helicarriers had started to shoot at each other, and I went to grab him without even thinking about it. We came off the Helicarrier, and I had opened my parachute to be able to land us on the ground safely. For that moment, we watched as the Helicarriers fell into the Potomac. As I had looked around us, I could have sworn I saw someone coming out of the water, carefully dragging something behind him.

Stryker took that moment to start to attack me. He grabbed my long hair to pull my head back, and I swore loudly over how surprised I had been.

"HYDRA's out," he told me. "But, I might as well take advantage of that. . ."

I did my best to fight out of his hold, but he was able to have a tighter hold on me as he threw me to the ground. He had a knife in his hand, and he had started to stab me a few more times. He didn't know how to react over not showing any amount of pain. I would try to grab his wrist to burn it, causing him to yell out in pain. That only caused him to try to switch the hand that was holding the knife.

I could feel the blood pooling around me from all of the wounds. It was starting to make me feel like I was starting to drown from all of the blood, and my breathing was starting to become slow and labored.

There were two gunshots, and I remember seeing the wounds suddenly appear in Baby Stryker's stomach. He looked down at his stomach, actually seeming to be surprised over that sort of thing. His breathing had started to become more labored before he collapsed to the ground.

That was when the Winter Soldier had walked towards me to scoop me up into his arms to carry me to the part of the bank where Steve had been lying on the ground, clearly looking worse for the wear and not even conscious. The Winter Soldier had laid me on the ground close to him before I heard him call for help right before he had disappeared.

Things really became a blur for me from that moment on.


	97. Chapter 96

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p><em>Taken from the transcripts of the interrogation of former S.H.I. . Agent Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, done by Behavioral Analysis Unit Special Agent Prentiss.<em>

**Prentiss:** Where were you?

**Romanoff:** I was Moira McTaggert. Apparently, she was an old friend of the Chessmaster.

**Prentiss:** So. . .you were with Alexander Pierce as it happened.

**Romanoff:** Thought it was pretty obvious. Yes. . .I was with the Council. I was there to leak all of the secrets. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s and HYDRA's.

**Prentiss:** At the expense of exposing your past?

**Romanoff:** (Pause for the former agent to freeze for a very brief moment) There made me work for HYDRA. . . _(She shook her head like she had needed to clear her head)_. The world had needed to know about them and what they've done. That's the only way to end S.H.I.E.L.D. as it had been known. Maybe they would rebuild. Maybe not.

_(Prentiss had played back the Black Widow's Senate Committee hearing.)_

**Committee Member:** Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

**Romanoff:** I do.

**Committee General:** Why haven't we yet heard from Captain Rogers?

**Romanoff:** I don't know what's left for him to say. I think the wreck in the middle of the Potomac made his point fairly eloquently.

**Committee General:** Well, he could explain how this country's expected to maintain its national security now that he and you have laid waste our intelligence apparatus.

**Romanoff:** HYDRA was selling you lies. Not intelligence.

**Committee General:** Many of whom you had a hand in telling.

**Committee Member:** Agent, you should know that there are some on this committee who feel, given your service record both for this country and against it, that you belong in a penitentiary, not mouthing off on Capitol Hill.

**Romanoff:** You're not going to put me in a prison. You're not going to put any of us in a prison. You know why?

**Committee Member:** Do enlighten us.

**Romanoff:** Because you need us. Yes. The world is a vulnerable place, and yes, we helped make it that way. But. . .we're also the ones best qualified to defend it. So, if you want to arrest me. Arrest me. You'll know where to find me.

* * *

><p><em>Taken from the transcripts of the interrogation with Captain Steve Rogers done by Behavioral Analysis Unit Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi of the F.B.I.<em>

**Rossi:** I know these next few questions will be difficult for you, but we need to know what had happened on that final Helicarrier.

**Rogers:** The Winter Soldier found me, and he was trying to stop me.

**Rossi:** _(He made a note in his notebook about the sudden lack of pain and confusion that had suddenly come across his face when he spoke about the Winter Soldier.)_ You know the Winter Soldier.

**Rogers:** I. . .did. . . _(Silence)_

**Rossi:** Not going to enlighten us?

**Rogers:** Not. . ._(Pause for him to be able to think for the moment.)_ An old friend of mine. Never thought I would ever see him again. . . _(He shook his head.)_ During my mission to stop Project Insight, I was also trying to help him remember who he really was.

**Rossi:** Did it work?

**Rogers:** _(Pause. Rossi made a note of what he was already able to see from him without him ever saying anything.)_ I'm still here, aren't I? _(There was a dark look that had passed across his face as he thought about something else entirely for a moment.)_

**Rossi:** Yes. . .about that. . .was "Firebird" with you on the Helicarrier?

**Rogers:** No. She dealt with one of the other Helicarriers, and she had been flying around to confuse the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents.

**Rossi:** She was found with you. . .

**Rogers:** I'm well aware of that! _(Pause)_ She wasn't with me.

**Rossi:** So. . .she walked over to you?

**Rogers:** _(Pause)_ I don't know. . . _(Silence)_

* * *

><p><em>Taken from the transcripts of the interrogation of Rebecca Tjaden, Firebird, done by Special Agent Seeley Boothe and Dr. Temperance Brennan.<em>

**Boothe:** We know you were able to get off the Helicarrier. Why didn't you use your powers to fly away?

**Tjaden:** For some reason. . .I decided to help get Baby Stryker off of there with me, so I had to use a parachute.

_(Boothe and Brennan had shared a look with each other. They knew how much Tjaden's family had so disliked the Strykers, so it was strange she was willing to keep one of them alive at the expense of her own life.)_

**Boothe:** What happened next?

**Tjaden:** I watched the Helicarriers shoot each other out of the sky and land into the Potomac. Later. . .I could've sworn I saw someone dragging something out of the river, but it wasn't clear for me. I wasn't wearing my glasses.

**Brennan:** What happened. . .? _(She watched as Tjaden was still favoring one side from being injured, though the pain was not bothering her.)_

**Tjaden:** Baby Stryker took that opportunity to attack me. Stabbed me _(She frowned as she was struggling to remember something)._ There were two gunshots, and when Baby Stryker collapsed to the ground. . .I could've sworn I saw the Winter Soldier. I think he picked me up to leave me with Steve.

**Boothe:** Do you know why?

**Tjaden:** _(Shook her head)._

**Brennan:** Someone called for help. . .

**Tjaden:** Yeah. . .he called for help, and he disappeared just as help had started to arrive. Before we were taken, I made sure they got Baby Stryker as well.

**Boothe:** Why would the Winter Soldier what to help you?

**Tjaden:** _(Pause as she chose her words very carefully)._ Good question. . .


	98. Chapter 97

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>I woke up in a hospital room, and I could see I was surround by Lauren and my grandma. Sharon Carter had been standing off to the side as she had been watching For any kind of a threat. My stomach had been wrapped, and one of my arms were wrapped from the defensive wounds. Even though I could have been given pain medications, I didn't need them. The pain wasn't what had bothered me too much, and there was not enough pain medication in the whole world to be able to relieve me the pain if that hadn't been the case.<p>

I slowly came to sit up in the hospital bed, and my grandma had looked to be pretty relieved about me being conscious. She slowly went to her feet, and she gave me a light kiss on my forehead before she had left that room for whatever reason, probably to speak to Coulson about something very important. That was only able to she would be able to do something like that with S.H.I.E.L.D. imploding.

Hank McCoy came into the room when he had realized I was awake at the moment, and he started to check on my injuries. He was wearing a slight frown of concentration when he had checked my wounds.

"What is it?" I asked him. More curious than anything else.

"You shouldn't be healing this fast," he had said to me, but I struggled in response like it was nothing to me. I couldn't know the reason why that would've been such a big deal.

It really was nothing to me. That sort of thing had seemed to happen within my family, so that wasn't something I wasn't too worried about. That still concerned him, though, but he was realizing he couldn't keep me in the hospital any longer than necessary. Lauren and I shared a look. A fellow mutant was surprised by that kind of effect wasn't something we would've expected to happen.

"We'll deal about that later," Lauren quickly said, and I could only silently agree with her. "Steve's awake, and he's worried about you."

Lauren had helped me to my feet, though that wasn't really necessary, and we were able to walk towards what would've been Steve's hospital room. The television was on to the news as the whole world would not stop speaking about S.H.I.E.L.D. being revealed to be HYDRA. It blew up all across the world when everyone had started to realize how close they all were death. there had been rioting going on, and no one could really blame those people which would have been the first thing to happen for many of them.

"They're rioting in Ames, Iowa?" I could hear Sam ask.

I was able to narrow my eyes to get a better look of what was on the screen. That had seemed to be pretty familiar to me. There were a few old classmates I could recognize on the screen, leading the rioting, though that shouldn't have meant anything.

"It's VISHEA," I said, and both Steve and Sam had looked up to see me in the doorway. "They're probably drunk and needed any kind of an excuse to be rowdy. That has happened before. . ."

My voice had died away when I saw how Steve had looked. He really had taken a beating, and it was obvious even though he was clearly on the mend. Steve had started to lose an amount of concern when he saw I was walking and appeared to be on my own two feet without any kind of aide. We could only focus on each other for that moment.

"You know. . ." Sam had knowingly said to us. "I going to. . ." Then he quickly mumbled before he left the room, and he was somehow able to keep Lauren from getting into the room.

I went to sit on the bed with Steve, and I took a hold of one of his hands. He took my hand up to his mouth, and he had kissed the inside of my wrist before looking back at me.

"You probably shouldn't be on your feet," he had said to me with some concern, but he knew and understood there was no way to get me to follow any of his orders.

"I'm fine, Steve," I quietly told him, having more patience than he would've expected when he was trying to make suggestions on what I should and should not do. He should know that I was irritated over him starting to become more and more overprotective over me. "I heal fast."

"Not that fast," Steve quietly replied.

"Fast enough," I told him before making a face at him.

He gave me a close look for a moment before he pulled me closer to him to hug me like he was never going to let me go for whatever reason. A few moments had passed before he was able to pull away from me.

"You were stabbed," Steve had quietly said to me. "Several times. . ."

"Apparently Baby Stryker joined HYDRA without even thinking twice about it," I told him. "Go figure."

"What happened?" Steve asked me. "He was found. . .by your direction. . .a good distance away. I know you can be stubborn and strong, but there was no way you could walk that distance to get to me. . .when you were that injured. . ."

I went to say something, but I had to stop myself. I had to take far too long to come up with those blurry memories, though they were slowly starting to come back to me. One of my hands had started to clench and unclench repeatedly, so Steve had to reach out to me with a calming hand.

"We were by the Potomac as we watched the Helicarriers shot each other out of the sky," I finally said to him. "I thought. . .I saw someone dragging something out of the river. . .and. . .when he pulled my hair, I swore loudly. . .making that person look back at us. . ."

When I had looked at Steve, I could see by the look in his eyes, he knew what I was going to say next, and it was pretty clear he didn't want to hear that part.

"There were gunshots," I ended up telling Steve, and that was when I was starting to wear a frown of concentration as I was trying to remember what had happened next. That was when my memories weren't the best. "When Baby Stryker fell to the ground. . .the shooter picked me up to leave me with you. . ." That was when I tipped my head to the side. "I think he was the one to call for help from our location."

Steve just as thoughtful as me, but before he could say anything to me, Natasha had come into the room. She paused for a moment when she had noticed how we were interacting with each other. We quickly looked up at her.

"They pulled the bullets out of him. "They're Russian. No rifling."

Steve had looked at me, thoughtful for that moment. "Bucky. . ."


	99. Chapter 98

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>The next days I didn't need to be in the hospital any more, and that had baffled the hospital staff. My uncle Mark had to do some fast talking to keep everyone from freaking out too much and make me stay much longer than would have been necessary for me. That kind of confusion would have led to them keeping me there to conduct research on me. A constant nightmare for a group of people who would have wanted to be left alone and considered to be private.<p>

I was wearing black leggings and an Under Armor shirt that had my high school's basketball team on it, and I had my hair up in two braids through Lauren's help. It was supposed to be a pretty comfortable next few days as the backlash and fallout over S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA would settle down. . .or as close as it would have been to settling down.

Me and Lauren were sort of watching the news as I was about to leave my room for good, but it didn't take us long to only focus what was on the screen. There had been an attempted HYDRA ambush of the F.B.I. Investigations were going to happen, and there were individuals who were heavily embedded within key roles of the federal government, and the F.B.I. was going to be able to that had been happening which would get rid of their other heads. Or, at least an attempt.

The few surviving HYDRA agents had started to attack the agents in a way to prevent their investigations. They came into the main building to shoot up everything (like you do), as the newscasters were going crazy over the storytelling. There was one agent who had been forced into the corner to work for HYDRA, but that agent would not fully comply. The moment they came into the main F.B.I. building, he was able to act. It was only him against all of those agents, and he was able to get rid of those HYDRA agents.

It was no surprise I was wearing a small smile when I came into Steve's hospital room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed as he was putting his shoes on. It was like he had automatically knew I was there, and he looked up at me, relaxing much more than before. He returned my smile almost as easily, though he didn't know why I was so pleased for that moment.

I shrugged when I went to sit next to him, and Steve had wrapped an arm around my waist to pull me closer to him. In that moment, I rested my head on his shoulder, and that had made him slightly grimace in pain from still healing from all of his wounds.

"Sorry. . ." I quietly said to him.

Steve went to gently touch my face. "It's fine. . ."

He went to kiss me, and it was like he was trying to keep out of his mind what had just happened. And for a moment, that was possible.

"I should have guessed this much sooner," the voice of Natasha had said, making us quickly pull apart. "You two. So much sense now. . ."

We looked at her, and she looked more amused than anything else.

"I'll stop trying to set you up with people," Natasha said, and she was close to laughing over what had happened.

I gave Steve a look, quirking up an eyebrow at him. "Interesting. . ."

Steve went to say something to me, but that was when I cackled loudly at him. It was enough to make him amused over what had happened. I knew it was just us in the world, so I didn't feel threatened by that sort of thing. It was hilarious.

Lauren walked into the room, pushing past Natasha and not caring how badly that would have ended. She had looked to be pretty upset, and she was holding my cell phone. "Your phone rang, so I had to answer it for you."

"Why did you do that?" I asked her.

"Emergency line," Lauren said, and I became suddenly serious as I had looked back at her.

"The Town's being attacked," Lauren said to me. "HYDRA."

I quickly came to my feet, and I started to walk out of the hospital room as I started to make some phone calls to the few other of my old classmates who were in Washington, D.C. for that semester. We were needed at home. They were only two people, Chase and Jacob, and they were going to steal a jet for us to go back home.

Steve quickly walked over to where I had been standing, and he had lightly touched my shoulder to have me look up at him. I could see he had seemed to be just as concerned about what was happening as i had been.

"We can help you," Steve had said to me, and I could tell he had really meant what he had said to me.

"I know you can," I told him. "But, you don't need to get involved."

This was a matter for the people of the Town. It was bad enough we were being attacked, but it wouldn't have been a good idea to bring some Strangers into a nasty situation.

Lauren and Natasha had appeared, and I was going to leave with Lauren before Steve gently grabbed my arm to keep me from walking away from him. Clearly he wasn't going to let it end there.

"You'll be jumping head first into a situation you don't know too much about," Steve told me. "And, you don't know who would or would not be able to help you. You need all of the help you could get."

I looked back at him for that moment, trying to see what he had been saying to me. He was offering the help, and I knew it was really needed.

"You might actually be right. . ." I mumbled at him.

"Did you just admit that?" He asked, trying to be lighthearted at the moment in the attempt to keep me from being too serious and too grim.

"The world might end," I deadpanned.


	100. Chapter 99

A/N: Please read and review!

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><p>It was not just me and Lauren who would have to come home to help our community and the others in the area. There was Steve, Natasha, and Sam. Just out of the city, Chase and Jacob had landed the jet, probably a little harder than they should have been, causing me to grimace at that sort of thing.<p>

Natasha and I walked into the jet, so we could pull Chase and Jacob away from the controls. We were the ones who were going to pilot the jet back home, so we would not crash the jet than anything else. Chase and Jacob were that bad.

"Hey!" Jacob had yelled at me.

"We're flying," I told him. "Stay out of our hair."

Jacob was going to argue with me, but Natasha had narrowed her eyes at him. That was enough to make him become strangely quiet. Natasha had that effect on people. Chase was smart enough to realize it would have been easier to allow me my own way than to stop me from anything else.

"When we land," I said over my shoulder, and it was more to Sam. The others had a vague idea of what to expect. "I'll take you to my grandma's. My uncle had nicked something you would find very useful before he was dishonorably discharged from the Air Force."

"Really?" Steve had asked me. "Your family. . ."

"Hey, now," I told him. ""She told him to do it. He may have been a troublemaker, but he did listen to his mother." There was a pause. "When he knew it would've been a very good idea for him."

"Also. . ." Lauren said. "She would make sure everyone would listen to her."

We flew the jet, making sure it was cloaked, and we came back into our community in the middle of the night. It was easier for us to be in hiding and to get what we needed for the coming struggle. Everything was very quiet that night. The people were either in hiding, captured, or waiting for the right moment to strike. I was hoping for the first and third options, and they were the better ones with the least horrible of implications.

I took Sam to the corner of my grandma's land where she had kept her stash of weapons from over the years. It was under the old chicken house. I walked towards the center of the cramped space, stomping one foot as I went to find the hollow space that had showed the doorway to the secret cache of weapons. It was always easy for me to forget where those weapons would have been kept because I would have very rarely went to get those weapons. They were only there when things had become very desperate indeed.

There was that hollow sound, and I had pulled up one of the floor boards to show Sam the hidden compartment.

"It's down there," I told him, and I handed him the flashlight. "It shouldn't be that difficult to find. You'll know it when you see it. If you're having problems, don't hesitate to yell up at me."

I still hoped that wouldn't have been the case. Too many spiders. I hate spiders. Especially at night when I couldn't see them.

Sam climbed down into the hidden compartment to grab an older version of his falcon wings. I took that moment to check my phone. Lauren and one of our older friends, Danielle, had been looking for what had happened to the people in the community, and they had been telling me everything that was happening. There were able bodied fighters still around, so there could be the chance we would have more help to get HYDRA out of there.

* * *

><p>It was going to start early that morning. Steve found me on my grandma's porch as I looked back to the town, and Steve gently rest a hand on my lower back. I looked up at Steve, and I knew he could see I had been feeling incredibly worried.<p>

"You don't need to worry too much," Steve had quietly said to me. He was looking directly into my eyes as he spoke to me, so I knew he was doing his best to get me to feel much better to keep my head clear for what we were about to do.

"HYDRA's in my hometown," I told him.

"Well," Steve said. He had that kind of faith in someone (me) that had proved he wasn't lying and completely truthful. It was that kind of faith in a person that would give them the strength to do almost anything. There was a reason why he was such a great leader. He saw the best in the people he had been leading, and he would try to bring that out to make them do great things. "They have you to help them."

Somehow, that was enough to keep myself from being too upset over what was happening. Steve was always the type of person who knew exactly what to say at the moment.

It wasn't too long after that moment, Lauren, Jacob, and Chase came back to my grandma's land, and they weren't alone. Danielle and Maggie were there which would have been very useful since they could create force fields and become invisible and make others invisible just by touching them. Chris was there, and he had teleportation skills which he had seemed to love to use to mess with those HYDRA agents. My brother, Billy, was off to the side as he had started to play with his own lighter. I could tell he was tense.

"So. . ." I drew the word out. "What happened?"

"It was right after the S.H.I.E.L.D. leak," my brother had said. "At night. That was when they came, and they were trying to round everyone up."

Me and Lauren had started to wear a look of disbelief. We weren't going to focus too much on what had happened and what could happen to our community when they had been taken HYDRA. Thinking and worrying about that would have been far too distracting, especially right then.

"That's not possible," I said, more for the benefit of Natasha, Sam, and Steve. "The siren should've alerted the whole community, and evacuation was supposed to happen."

The people who had stayed in the community had shared a look. It was a look of pure hatred and disgust. A type of look that would've only come from the people who had been betrayed.

"It was Kelli," Danielle had said, and she had looked to be pretty upset. She was the only one who had sincerely tried to be friends with Kelli, and it had been thrown back into her face. "Kelli's been HYDRA this whole time."


End file.
